


Diamond On A Landmine (Waiting To Explode)

by brokenhighways



Series: Diamond On A Landmine [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternative Universe - FBI, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Art, Diamonds, Drama & Romance, Friends With Benefits, Inspired by Art, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, New York City, Theft, Thief Jensen, White Collar Crime, art gallery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenhighways/pseuds/brokenhighways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scandal surrounding the discovery that Jared's friend, Jensen Ackles, was an art thief and Jared was his on-off booty call sent Jared's life into a tailspin. When Jared's new job at an up and coming gallery is threatened by the theft of a valuable and iconic painting on opening night, Jared is forced to rely on Jensen to help clear his name. In the midst of this all, Jensen’s doing his best to prove that he’s a changed man, even though everything seems to point to the contrary and it becomes clear that someone is prepared to take him down, no matter the cost. Can Jared and Jensen work together to overcome their tangled past or will secrets be their downfall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diamond On A Landmine (Waiting To Explode)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_j2_bigbang. Title is from Diamond on a Landmine by Billy Talent. I reference some artwork in this and I'll mention them all at the end.
> 
> Thank you to thruterryseyes for the [wonderful art](http://thruterryseyes.livejournal.com/46895.html/). Please check it out!

# Prologue

Chad Michael Murray is a lot of things, but he’s not one of those people that stops in the street, takes out their cell phone and shoots a video of whatever drama is unfolding. That’s a lot more effort than he’s willing to make at any given time - so he walks past. It’s a trait he applies to life in general. Girlfriend getting too argumentative? He walks away. His mother giving him too much grief? He walks away. Maybe he’s never been one of the good guys, or maybe he’s just never been so truly captivated by a moment that he wants to stay.  
  
Until today.  
  
To sum things up quickly, Jared Padalecki is his best friend, and Jensen Ackles is Jared’s best friend. The latter being one of those things that Chad wishes had nothing to do with him. Jensen is bad news and everybody knows it.  _Everybody_. Some more than others, and Chad won’t lie - he’s been waiting for this moment, craving it almost. But…he always imagined it would go differently.  
  
Actually, he always imagined that the information he gave to the Times would be enough to force the cops into doing  _something,_  but that never happened.  
  
Until now.  
  
Chad imagined that Jared would be there, the same way he always is. Watching with the same look on his face, that disappointment he gets whenever Jensen is involved. He imagined that there’d be a brief moment where Jared tried to hold back, tried to stop himself from reacting, but ultimately he’d fail. And then the yelling would start. At the cops, at Jensen, whoever. All Chad knows is that he would have put money on Jared trying to fight this somehow. Running after the cops as they walk Jensen over to the car. Threatening them with hollow words and empty promises. Jensen wouldn’t bat an eye, he’d just give everyone a sardonic, smooth smile and keep his head high, firm with the knowledge that he could probably scheme his way out of yet another tricky situation.  
  
That’s not how it happens. Jared’s…he’s numb. He’s just standing there, watching as the cops drag Jensen away. Jensen, on the other hand, is anything but calm and smooth. Frenzy might not be the right word but he’s going absolutely  _crazy._ He’s yelling, struggling, desperately trying to plead his case, but not to the cops. He’s trying to get Jared to look at him, to listen to him. Chad almost feels sorry for the guy.  
  
There’s one last cry before Jensen’s helped into the squad car, his head almost hitting the door when he tries to push past the officer one last time. There’s a slam and then the squeal of wheels. Time seems to restart again and he springs into action. Jared’s still standing there, still and frozen, as if it would hurt him to move.  
  
Chad grabs his arm and shakes him a little. “Hey.  _Hey,_ Jared, come on.”  
  
Jared looks at him then and Chad’s struck by the other man’s eyes. They’re blank. Gone is the usual vibrancy and in its place is a dull matte, papering over the life that is usually there.  
  
Later on, Chad’s going to sit back and wonder how he could have been so stupid, but for now, he’s got someone to take care of.  
  
He’s finally got a situation that he can’t walk away from.

#  **Part One**

_Two Weeks Earlier_  
  
Jensen Ackles is bad news. Jared knows it. Hell, everybody knows it. He’s such bad news that Jared’s last steady boyfriend, Tom, turned out to be an  _undercover_  FBI agent investigating Jensen (and Jared was surprised to find out just how many fucks the FBI gave about morals and ethics - none). Tom strung Jared along for a good four months before admitting that he was looking into some of Jensen’s ‘dealings’. The worst part was that even though they hadn’t dated for long, Jared actually  _liked_ him. So when it all fell apart, he was pretty cut up about it because he probably should have known that something like this would happen.  
  
Jensen is a renowned thief (in certain circles at least), for God’s sake. That should have been a vast enough deterrent when it came to staying away from him, but nope, Jared finds that he keeps going back each time, no matter how complicated it gets. The correct description for his mental state might just be ‘dickmatized’ but that would not even be a testament to how much action he gets because he’s certain that he’s never been Jensen’s sole booty call. In fact, he hasn’t even been Jensen’s  _anything_  since everything went down, and that says it all really.  
  
It’s also not a surprise that Jensen single-handedly ruined his professional reputation (it turns out that people don’t want to buy art from someone who’s  _best friends_  with a thief). When Jared thinks about how they first met, he wonders if he should have just left Jensen alone. Ignored him right there and then instead of later ignoring the fact that his best friend was a cunning, brilliant thief who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted.  
  
Their first meeting went something like this _:_  
  
_Jared's sitting in his Impressionism class one warm afternoon, wondering if his professor could get any quieter. She's a good teacher, but it's obvious that she's slightly overwhelmed by all of them and as a result, the tiny mike at the podium barely picks up what she's saying and her thick French accent barely helps. He sighs and glances to his right briefly, eyes catching on the guy next to him whose head is down as he draws furiously. He turns back to the front of the class and tries to tune back in. Impressionism isn't his favourite school of painting, but he enjoys it all the same. He gets the whole wanting to capture a moment in time thing, and capturing the light and colour of particular moment. The rapid brush strokes and unmixed paint and the way that all of the little details don't matter as much as the overall moment. The spontaneity of it all! And_[ ** _Dance at Le moulin de la Galette_**](http://www.artble.com/imgs/7/d/7/67173/dance_at_le_moulin_de_la_galette.jpg) _IS one of his favourite paintings, but he's not really finding this class all that interesting. He turns back to the guy and is stunned to see that he's also being watched. Not that looking at him is a crime or anything but he’s surprised to see how hot this guy is. He has short, cropped light brown hair, pale, smooth skin dotted with mocha coloured freckles and these vibrant green eyes that makes Jared wish he had his acrylic paints with him right now._  
  
_"There a problem?" The guy asks, though he doesn't sound upset. If anything he looks amused._  
  
_Jared shakes his head, "No, just trying to stay focused. Kinda hard when I can't make out a word that she's saying."_  
  
_The guy smiles. "She's like this every year."_  
  
_"Oh, you've had her before?"_   _There’s there tell-tale scratch of pencil on paper and then:_  
  
_"I drop in every now and then."_  
  
_“Oh.” Jared’s not sure what else to say, the guy’s being kind of vague. He turns back to the front and tries once again to make out the lecturer’s words._  
  
_“I’m Jensen.” The guy is talking to him again._  
  
_Jared looks at him, into those green eyes and finds that he’s a little tongue tied. Jensen grins at him and suddenly starts packing his stuff up. He shoves his sketch book into his canvas bag and tucks his pencil behind his ear before sliding a few sheets of paper towards Jared. He winks at Jared and then gets up and leaves. There’s some slight commotion as everyone turns to see who’s causing the noise and Jared takes the time to look down at the papers._  
  
_They’re sketches of **him**_ **.**  
  
That’s probably always been the source of Jared’s confliction when it comes to Jensen. Sometimes he thinks Jensen liked him like  _that_ at one point, other times he just thinks that Jensen liked to draw and subsequently drew whatever the hell was in front of him.  
  
After that first meeting, Jensen appeared more and more often and they hung out here and there. Jared, being a newly out gay college student, was a little disappointed to see that Jensen hooked up with girls but that evaporated when he noticed that more people took interest in him when Jensen was around. Jensen always said it was because Jared was special, but...that clearly wasn’t true. By himself, he could disappear in a room. With Jensen, he was the centre of attention. That’s just how it always was, and maybe he got a little too familiar with that. The popularity, the self-confidence, the way that he seemed to matter so much more when Jensen was by his side. In hindsight, none of that was healthy, and he suspects that his mother would have been less approving of Jensen had she known what the man really did. Jensen wasn’t even a student; he just, by his own admission, showed up to classes that he felt sounded interesting. It seemed churlish when Jensen would say ‘ _the only difference between me and you is that I’m not paying tens of thousands of dollars for a piece of paper_ ’ but given the fact that his art degree seemed to mean so little these days, Jared’s long conceded the point.  
  
Hanging out with Jensen turned into sharing an apartment when he reached his last year of college. It made sense, that’s how he justified it. It was a great place, big, spacious and far too expensive for a guy that didn’t seem to have a job. That mystery was solved the first day Jared stepped into the wrong room and found himself face to face with what seemed like hundreds of forgeries. The most obvious ones were there: [ _Mona Lisa_](http://www.britannica.com/topic/Mona-Lisa-painting), [ _The Last Supper_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_Supper_\(Leonardo_da_Vinci\)), [ _The Creation of Adam_](http://starrynight.slashthem.es/collections/great-masters/michelangelo_-_creation_of_adam/)[, ](http://starrynight.slashthem.es/collections/great-masters/michelangelo_-_creation_of_adam/)[ _Starry Night_](http://starrynight.slashthem.es/collections/great-masters/michelangelo_-_creation_of_adam/), [ _The Scream_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scream), right down to Picasso’s ‘[ _Guernica_](http://www.pablopicasso.org/guernica.jsp)’. That was their first real argument; it was also the first night that they ever slept together, but that's another story. Or well, rather, Jared chooses not to think about it because as the years have passed, he wonders if sex was another tool Jensen used to get whatever he wanted. All he remembers thinking is that it was a shame that Jensen didn’t use his talent to become an artist in his own right. Of course he learned later on that there was only one thing that drove Jensen – money and greed. Which is two things, but sometimes Jared thinks that they go hand-in-hand.

 

 

  
Somehow they remained best friends. Jensen would be in and out of town while Jared worked his way up the art gallery ladder, from mere volunteer to Chief Procurer (or Head Art Buyer, which sounded less accomplished but whatever). He turned a blind eye to most of Jensen’s dodgy dealings, ignored articles and discussions on the pieces that he knew Jensen stole. He also may have unwittingly taken part in a pink diamond heist, but he doesn’t like to think about that. Jared’s always been a look on the bright side kind of guy, and life  _was_  relatively good up until two years ago when it came out.  
  
The article that changed everything.  
  
Jared has every single word of the article emblazoned on his brain. The author all but accused him of working with Jensen to smuggle priceless artworks in and around the country, accused him of being an accomplice! He couldn't even deny that they were friends at all, because the article was accompanied by what seemed like a thousand different pictures of them in various social settings.  
  
With all of that in mind, and the New Year approaching, Jared resolves to stay away from Jensen and his sticky fingers. However, that's easier said than done when Jensen has a nasty habit of climbing through his apartment window to get in. It’s a thief thing apparently, a long running in-joke that stopped being funny a long time ago. Usually, he wouldn't mind. Sure, he'd mentally berate himself for the flutter in his chest and the way his less than platonic feelings arise when Jensen's around but he wouldn’t mind. This time, it is different. This time, he's pissed because Jensen's been nowhere to be found even though the last six months have been hell; a direct consequence of the fallout from the situation with Tom and the anonymous article posted in the Times about his friendship with Jensen. In the past couple of months, he’s taken his meagre savings to hell and back. What was he was making at the pizzeria barely even touched his account once he was done paying for everything. it figures that Jensen would show up and open up the wound he’s worked so hard to close, two days before he starts his new job at an up and coming gallery. That he would show up just as things are seemingly back on track.  
  
Seeing Jensen standing in the tiny, cramped apartment he was forced to move into isn't really a good thing. Jared knows that he can't blame Jensen for all of what happened, just ninety nine percent of it. Arguably, he could have done something to stop Jensen from stealing priceless art but short of reporting him to the cops, there wasn’t a whole lot else he could have done because he wasn’t the kind of guy who betrayed his friends. Nowadays people are a lot more sympathetic, but when the article was published, there were plenty of people lining up to tell him that he might as well have been a full blown accomplice. It’s funny how seeing a guy struggle to find enough loose change to pay for a coffee can make people have some humanity.  
  
"Huh," Jensen says as he takes a look around. He never says hello. There’s never any ‘how are you?’ it’s just some stupid, innocuous comment, like he hasn’t disappeared for however long, leaving Jared in the dark like he always does. Watching him staring at his apartment makes Jared feel sick for several reasons, but before he can go into his mental diatribe, Jensen’s talking again. "This place is, like, ten times too small for you, you know that right?" Jared knows that if he chooses to be friends with dicks, he’s basically signing up to accept their terrible behaviour, but half of the shit Jensen says makes him want to punch something. Actually,  _most_ of it does.  
  
"Losing my job came with a lot of wonderful opportunities," he retorts sarcastically. "Apparently the only thing debt will get you is a shitty apartment that you can't even afford the rent for. Someone should really let the ninety nine percenters know." The apartment really is a shit hole. It's a two room apartment with dividers separating the kitchenette from the living space, and tiny broom closet masquerading as a bathroom. The pipes are rusted and old, which makes for a shitty night of sleep seven days a week. The wallpaper has a musty, yellowing floral pattern that makes Jared want to curl up in a ball and die, while the furniture has seen better days. His mom keeps asking when she's going to see his new place, but this is a far cry from his relatively luxurious former apartment. As things stand, the only person to see this place is Jensen, which is typical of his life.  
  
"I'm sorry about that article, okay?" Jensen says a little defensively. Oh.  _Now_  he’s sorry. Now he’s ready to  _acknowledge_ it? Where was this eighteen months ago? Jared stands by his shitty couch, seething silently as Jensen utters out meaningless words. "I didn't realise that they were going to write that whole section on you. Usually I get wind of these beforehand. Buy off the source. I mean you were just---"  
  
"The gullible best friend?" Jared cuts in. "The fuck buddy? The stupid schmuck who thought that the great Jensen Ackles would ever care about someone like him?" Jensen's quiet for a long time, his eyes still assessing the apartment slowly, as if he can’t bear to look at Jared. The silence is long enough that Jared starts to feel self-conscious about his life. Here he is in loose, mismatched pyjamas while, Jensen's adorned in some kind of designer shirt and slim cut pants, looking like he’s just stepped off a fashion shoot. Nausea churns in his stomach. He doesn't need this right now. He does not need reminding that all of this is as much his fault as it is Jensen’s. He was the one who let things slide, who let Jensen crawl back to him every time. Whether it was money, sex, shelter or the key to a house with priceless items in it, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t know how or why he was so stupid. Why he didn’t realise that guys like him always came last.  _Always_. No matter how hard he tried to fit in, to be someone that Jensen would never let go, it always came down to him being left in the dark, desperately trying to get out of a situation he should not have gotten into in the first place.  
  
"Look, can we just talk over coffee, later or something?” Jared suggests, knowing fully well that he has no intention of calling his former best friend for anything. He’s tired and…he’s not emotionally ready for this conversation. Not when his feelings are so jumbled up. He loves Jensen, but he hates him, however at the same time, he’s still  _in love_  with him. At this point, it isn’t a choice, it’s the only way he knows how to be and…seeing Jensen face-to-face isn’t helping matters.  
  
“Right, like you’re ever going to agree to that,” Jensen retorts sarcastically, because he’s always had some fucking nerve. “You’re never going to hear me out, are you?”  
  
Jared snorts. Jensen can be so damn self-righteous sometimes, and in the past he kind of liked it. He liked that his best friend didn’t take any prisoners; that he always stood up for what he believed in. Hell, he found it kind of hot. Now all he can see is the man that doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself and it sickens him.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jensen apologises before Jared can say anything. “I’m just. I want to make things right. I know that I’ve messed things up for you, for mom and for Lauren but--” Hearing a name that he doesn’t recognise sends up a flare of jealousy within Jared that he’ll never be able to explain. Irrational is his middle name when it comes to Jensen. He’s never really been the clingy friend type but he’s past trying to make sense of his feelings and emotions regarding Jensen. They’re nonsensical and make him do and say crazy things and—he can’t do anything about it. Not now at least.  
  
Jared’s clears his throat. “Who’s Lauren?” Jensen looks away nervously, suddenly seeming skittish, as if this is the least desirable conversation he’s ever had the misfortune of taking part of. “She...we were married. We got divorced - or well, we’re in the middle of that - but...yeah.”  
  
Jared is  _floored_.  
  
Married.  
  
Jensen got  _married_  -  _is_  married. Jared’s been here picking up the pieces of his shattered and hopeless life and Jensen went and got married?  
  
The anger that runs through his veins scares him.  
  
“If I even remotely knew how to throw a successful punch, your face wouldn’t be all that pretty anymore.” The words are spat out through gritted teeth and even though Jared’s probably the least intimidating person ever (once you get past the fact that he’s six foot five), Jensen takes a few steps back. Jared wonders if that’s a testament to how furious he is, because right now he feels like he’s on  _fire_.  
  
“Jare-” Jensen starts, but Jared doesn’t want to hear it. He marches over to where Jensen’s hovering by the window, opens it and points outside. Jokes aside, Jensen doesn’t even deserve to walk through his damn door.  
  
“Get out.” There are a few more minutes of empty apologies and desperate pleas before Jensen finally gets the message: he’s not welcome here.  
  
And when he’s gone, Jared doesn’t stand there for an hour with tears rolling down his face. He doesn’t think about why Jensen seemingly not wondering why he stuck around for so long. He definitely doesn’t think about how he’s an idiot for still loving Jensen.  
  
He does nothing.

 

 

  
Chad, one of his close friends, is understandably unimpressed when Jared meets him at the bar they frequent the next evening. Chad's...well, he's Chad, and on most days he's the only real friend that Jared has.  
  
"So, what did he have to say for himself?" Chad asks him once they're two beers in. The look of annoyance on Chad’s face is obvious, even though he's obviously trying to hide it. He doesn’t like talking about Jensen and he never has done.  
  
"Not much," Jared says. "The usual spiel." He keeps his answer vague, knowing that it won't take much to set Chad off. The rant is never new but Jared wonders when it'll sink into his head, when he'll stop living in the past and at least attempt to move on. There have been other guys apart from Jensen but they’ve never stuck around for long. They don’t get his friendship with Jensen and that’s always been a deal breaker, never mind the fact that he’s put up with a whole slew of Jensen’s former exes, and that list is pretty damn long. Of course, he’s to blame as well – he knows that much. It’s hard for someone to be in a relationship with someone who is hung up on someone else.  
  
“You know what I’m going to say, right?” Chad says with a loud sigh. “You need to break this cycle. Don’t let him mess with your head and for God’s sake, move the fuck on, Jared. Please. I mean, why do you think he’s back in town? He’s not here to see you.”  
  
Jared blanches at that. At no point did that thought cross his mind, but it’s a good question, why  _is_  Jensen here? “I don’t know why he’s back, he…he didn’t say much. Just came in through my goddamn window.”  
  
Chad stares at him blankly. “One of these days, I’m going to be the one to push him out of a window.” There’s no real malice to the words, but it’s obvious that Chad detests Jensen. It’s the main reason why Jared’s always kept them apart, and part of the reason why he feels guilty now that Chad’s the only one who still gives him the time of day. There was a time when Jensen was his entire world and no one else got a look in, and that included Chad. To this day, his friend’s never said a word. Never accused Jared of not being here of ignoring him and Jared always feels bad about it because he knows that he would deserve every word.  
  
That maybe he’s just as shitty as Jensen is.

 

 

  
The feelings from his night out with Chad linger and Jared screws up in a major way. He's not sure what makes him do it - maybe the intense loneliness that he's been feeling ever since his work friends abandoned him, and he realised that apart from Chad, there was no one else. Sandy moved back to California the year before and as much as he loves her, it isn't the same. His mom and sister are back in Texas, depending on money that he can barely scrape together, so he avoids talking to them to try and stave off the resentment. Without his dad in the picture, he's got to take care of them. Just him. The older brother he looked up to when he was a kid is long gone. Tired of the burden that came with being the oldest. Sometimes Jared hates him with every fibre of his being and sometimes he understands him completely. It's something that he and Jensen have always had in common. The lack of male role models, the taking care of their families. And just for one night, Jared wants to be with someone who understands.  
  
He goes over to Jensen's apartment, the one that's in his mom's name, because that’s the kind of things crooks like Jensen do. It's big, spacious, and totally unlike Jared's tiny, box apartment. When he opens the door, Jensen looks surprised, though his expression changes when he sees the look on Jared's face and realises what he wants.  _Just one last time_ , Jared tells himself. One last time and then he'll actually make an effort to move on, to get away from this messy, horrible, soul-destroying infatuation that he has with Jensen. Jensen comes closer, his steps quiet and measured as he smiles. The smile is softer than Jared is used to and he falters momentarily. He's about to change his mind when Jensen reaches him, standing so close that their noses are almost bumping.  
  
"Do you trust me?" He murmurs, his breath ghosting on Jared's lips.  
  
Jared swallows audibly. "No.".  
  
The grin he receives in response is crooked as Jensen whispers, "Smart man."  
  
Jared isn't sure who kisses who first.  
  
In the morning, Jensen’s in the middle of making breakfast when Jared attempts to do the walk of shame. His shirt is missing somewhere, so he snags one of Jensen’s hoodies and is on his way out when Jensen stops him. Something sizzles in a frying pan and Jared realises that he can smell  _bacon_. A closer look at Jensen’s spotless kitchen reveals a perfectly set up table. Jared’s seen this set up a million times before but it’s never been for  _him_. Usually, Jensen’s long gone by the time he gets up, with no trace to show that he was even in Jared’s arms the night before. Sometimes he would slink out of Jensen’s spare room and find him entertaining some pretty, made-up socialite, as if he wasn’t fucking Jared the night before. He’s almost expecting someone to walk through the front door but there’s nothing. Jensen turns around and catches him watching before he can turn back and pretend to be asleep again.  
  
“Breakfast?” he calls out hopefully and Jared stands there, fabric of the hoodie pressed against his bare chest, his jeans suddenly feeling too tight and heavy as he stares. There’s a part of him that hopes. Maybe the look he saw in Jensen’s eyes was  _something_. Maybe Jensen really did come back for him? Maybe. Just…maybe. Perhaps later, he’ll sit down and wonder about the other part of him that thinks that this is all too familiar. Too rehearsed. Too…easy. Lauren springs to his mind and he wonders if this is how Jensen seduced her. Did he make her bacon and pancakes, or was it croissants and quaint little crepes? Did she get the five-star treatment at some fancy hotel, like the Ritz or the Hilton? Or did she get the Jared-star treatment: a quick, hard fuck against the refrigerator before he could even get the milk for his cereal? The thought alone makes him feel a little queasy and he knows that he has to get out.  
  
“I can’t,” Jared chokes out. He starts his new job  _tomorrow_ , his new life, and this is a mistake - Jensen is a mistake and one that he can’t keep on making. Not if he wants things to get better, and they  _have_  to, for his sake and for his family’s sake. “I…have to help Katie and Aldis out at the gallery.” That part is true at least. Katie, the owner and one of his former colleagues from his time at the  ** _Gagosian Gallery_**  in the Chelsea area, has been waxing lyrical about some stupid masquerade ball-themed idea for the opening. Aldis is only really concerned with the financial side of things, leaving Jared to rein Katie in, not that he can be bothered half of the time. It’s her money and her seventies pop star daddy probably has plenty more where it came from. She dreams big and he likes that, but…the fear that she’ll have to close  ** _Cassidy Clarity_**  within a few months due to her frivolity is ripe and one more emotion he doesn’t need to deal with.  
  
“Oh, right, the opening is tomorrow, right?” Jensen says with a smile. That familiar flutter hits the same place it always does and Jared wonders if he could hate himself any more. Probably. “I’m looking forward to it.”  
  
“I don’t want you there.” There. He’s being assertive. He’s making a decision. Chad would be proud.  
  
“I…uh, look, Katie, uh, she’s paying me to show up. I’m a guest of honour.” Jared sinks. Of course he is. He remembers now, just why it was that he got the job. Katie’s master plan was to draw attention to the gallery, no matter what kind it was. Initially when she interviewed him, he assured her that, sure, he’d be fine if Jensen turned up. Apparently having a thief there would be a big draw (though, Jensen was known as more of an art expert than a thief to those he hadn’t yet ripped off or those who haven’t seen the article). The sad thing is that she was probably right. “She said that you told her you were fine with it so I said yes. Was that…wrong?” He looks unsure and Jared can barely stand to see it.  
  
“Not like we can do anything about it now,” he mumbles, not caring for the  _worry_  in Jensen’s eyes and how it almost seems as if he  _cares_. It’s weird. Jensen’s been acting differently. The bravado’s gone and while Jared could put it down to him knowing that he really fucked up by disappearing, there’s something off. Last night was off and…suddenly Jared just wants to take a shower. Wash away all of his regrets. He wants to be as far away from here as possible.  
  
So he leaves, ignoring Jensen’s voice when he calls him back, something about breakfast, and something about staying. It makes Jared laugh. They’ve been best friends for over ten years and this is the first time Jensen’s ever offered him breakfast. And it’s the first time Jared’s walked away even though a tiny part of him wants to stay.  


 

 

  
Watching Katie plan the opening is exhausting, more so because of the Madonna playlist she insists on blasting from Spotify. Aldis is sitting in a corner, hiding behind his laptop while Jared runs around doing all of the heavy labour. The artworks arrive and he has to appraise them (why Katie didn’t consider hiring an appraiser is a mystery to him, but he can figure it out later). Thankfully he’s been around Jensen long enough to be able to tell when something is the real deal. Among the paintings they’ve received especially for the opening are the  _[Royal Red and Blue by Mark Rothko](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_1_\(Royal_Red_and_Blue\))_  and [Warhol’s _Turquoise Marilyn_ ,](https://emdeco.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/turquoise-marilyn-andy-warhol-1964-e1359919577935.jpg) both just here temporarily to lure visitors in. There are a couple more pieces just for the opening, including the [Diamond Trellis Egg](http://www.timstanleyphoto.com/HDR/2013/i-GxwH5tT/0/L/130210HMNS-75-L.jpg), which is a pretty big get. When he asks Katie how she got the owners to let her show them she merely shrugs and says, ‘Money talks.’ He can’t argue with that, so he gets on with making sure the bar is stocked and that all the places are set. The interns that Katie hired to help him are in a corner somewhere and he quietly curses under his breath as he feels a tell-tale strain in his back.  
  
Two hours and four bizarre dance rehearsals later, he escapes to the coffee shop two doors away from the gallery. And because life is awesome, the first thing he sees is Jensen sitting at a table, newspaper spread out in front of him as his mouth presses into a thin line. He’s about to step inside when he sees a dark figure sit down across from Jensen. Annoyingly enough, it’s the familiar lines of Tom’s shoulders that give him away. There’s an unusual intimacy in Jensen’s eyes as he says something to Tom. His narrowed eyes tell Jared that it’s nothing nice, but that there’s  _anything_  between them at all is a mystery to him. Tom’s hand snakes out across the table, creeping towards Jensen, who snatches his own hand away furiously.  
  
Everything clicks into place suddenly. Tom and Jensen clearly have history together and Jared’s an idiot for thinking that Tom ever wanted him for  _him_. With anger rushing through his veins, he backs away and turns around, pain thrumming through his chest as he wonders why these things keep happening to him. He’s so lost in thought that he bumps right into someone walking up behind him.  
  
He turns around to apologise and frowns when he sees a familiar face staring back at him.  
  
“What are  _you_  doing here?”

 

 

  
By the time he makes it back to the gallery, he must look as shot as he feels because Katie pulls him aside and asks him what’s wrong.  
  
“Nothing,” he assures her. “Just tired. My last job was delivering pizzas and bizarrely enough it involved  _less_ running around.” It’s a poor joke but she smiles anyway. He isn’t surprised that she doesn’t read between the lines and realises that  _she’s_  the reason why he’s been rushing around in disarray.  
  
“Is this about Jensen?” she asks. Jared sighs heavily. When isn’t it about Jensen?  
  
Fifteen minutes later Katie leaves him with a hug and a promise that he’ll find someone worthy of him someday. The worst part is that if Jared’s heart was a dial it would be stuck on Jensen, and that analogy isn’t even as bad as he feels.

 

 

  


  
The day of the opening is predictably chaotic. Katie is nowhere to be seen and Aldis isn't interested in anything that isn't related to numbers. That leaves Jared to order people around and beg the interns to stave off the constant tweets and selfies for one day. Not that he minds, because anything keeping him from thinking about the events of the previous day is good. The memory of Tom and Jensen is emblazoned on his brain, vivid and encompassing. He's not sure if it is anger or pity he feels - anger at letting himself being taken in by Tom, or pity for the both of them. Probably both. Glass shatters somewhere behind him, forcing him to come back to the present. He doesn't have to go too far to find Katie in the back area of the gallery surrounded by what used to be a bottle of champagne. The smell of the alcohol is strong as he pulls her away from the mess before she does something stupid like sever an artery. Despite her faults, she does seem genuinely enthused about the gallery, it would be a shame if she wasn’t here to see everything come to fruition.  
  
"Look, Aldis and I will sort this out; why don't you go and get your hair and makeup done and sort out your dress?" he says, after he locates a long handled dustpan and sweeps up the glass. Aldis probably won’t be happy about it, but Jared’s sure he can handle setting a couple of tables. Katie tries to argue but Jared gives her a stern look until she caves, her shoulders slumping as relief pours through her.  
  
“Thank you so much, Jared, you’re a life saver!” she says brightly. After their conversation yesterday, he supposes that she thinks that they're friends now, so he doesn’t stiffen in her embrace like he usually would when he isn’t all that familiar with a person. He’s not sure when he went from being a bubbly, warm person to this cold-hearted shell, but he’s certain that it has something to do with Jensen.  
  
It’s the story of his life.

 

 

  
By the evening, the main hall of the gallery has been transformed. The interior of the room is lit up by bright strobe lighting giving it an incandescent feel. Each artwork is bathed under its own white glow, so that they don’t get lost in the midst of the colours in the room. There are golden spray-painted bowls by the main door, containing typical masquerade masks for those that come empty handed, though Jared’s seen some of the pre-party tweets and a  _lot_ of the guests seem to be quite fond of their own elaborate face wear. Each table has been set perfectly, lilac tablecloths complemented by fluorescent flower displays and purple napkins. Light jazz music streams through the room, courtesy of the band Jared hired (at last minute because Katie’s singer friend is quote-unquote ‘still in rehab’) and the night is going well, until Jensen walks in, looking impeccable, smug and attractive all at once while Jared’s stuck directing the servers passing around mini-quiches and chicken skewers.  
  
“Wait, what you got retweeted by Justin Timberlake?” one of the interns is saying as she darts past Jared, her hands conspicuously free of the platter of food she’s supposed to be holding. “Fuck. My. Life.” Jared snorts – his sentiments exactly. He spends the next couple more hours monitoring drinks and food and answering the occasional question about the displays when people realise that he actually knows what he’s talking about. It feels good to be discussing art again - he can tell that passion flows through his words because the guests seem impressed. Once he’s done with the third group of people, he turns to see what else needs to be done and catches sight of Jensen lingering in a corner, his eyes still firmly planted on Jared.  
  
Jensen's been shooting him looks all night but he's been pointedly ignoring them and busying himself with doing his job. Apart from the people who are happy to listen to him talk about art, a lot of his former colleagues and peers are present tonight. He feels a twinge of  _shame_  as he serves them drinks and smiles with them, his face stretched so tight that it physically hurts. He's not exactly popular, but when he'd run his old gallery in Manhattan, these were the people he had lunches with and so on. Not fitting in now isn't a problem, because he hadn't done that before. And humiliation? It's not like he isn't used to that. Even so, he still would rather be on his tattered couch, eating buttery popcorn for dinner and watching some rerun on television. With another weary sigh, he makes his way back over to the bar, wincing as Katy Perry's loud vocals blast through the speakers. The band are on a break so it’s back to Katie's generic, poppy playlist. Surprisingly most of the guests seem to like the theme; though Jared is not wearing a mask himself, he has to admit that it was a great idea. So all in all, the ball is going well. Katie is glowing and radiant, looking like a million dollars in her off the shoulder cream Versace dress. Once she'd come back from her break, things had gone much smoother, especially when Aldis was able to return back to his spreadsheets or whatever. Lord knows the man could nag on and on about the correct way to fold a napkin.  
  
"Hey, Jared, we're out of mixers!" One of the college kids they hired to tend the bar is giving him a desperate, wide-eyed stare as Suzie Montgomery, some upper class socialite, hangs onto his arm tightly.  
  
"Cut her off," Jared mouths with a shake of his head. The last thing they need is a drunken scene overshadowing the entire night. He goes back to the storeroom to pick up the mixers and isn't surprised to see Jensen waiting by door with an expectant look on his face, like Jared  _owes_  him one single second of his time.  
  
"I thought I made my feelings clear yesterday, Jensen," he says, pushing his hand against his eyeballs hard. The familiar headache is returning, leaving him with a dull throb behind his right eye. In the background, he can hear Beyoncé wailing that she ‘ _woke up like this'_. He huffs out a dry laugh; so did he.  
  
"You look tired," Jensen says as he approaches Jared and kicks the door closed. Jared clenches his fist. He really doesn't need this right now. Or ever.  
  
"Why won't you just fuck off?" he hisses through gritted teeth. "Leave. Me. Alone. You've never had any trouble with it before."  
  
Jensen looks at him sadly. "I know. And I know that no amount of apologies will make up for all the shit I've done but I just- I have to say this. Part of the reason why Lauren and I--"  
  
Jared interjects the second that he hears her name. "I'm not here to listen to stories about your wife. I just want to get the mixers. Okay?" He tries to go and hunt down the bottles when he feels a warm hand on his arm.  
  
"Wait," Jensen says, his voice raw and raspy. It's the look in his eyes that stops Jared. He's seen it before. Usually, it’s flicker, another crushed hope, and just pure delusion on his end. But right now in this instant, he wants to believe.  
  
"What is it?" he whispers.  
  
Jensen lets go of his arm and says, "I'm...I'm in love with you.”

 

 

# Part Two

Jensen's never been a romantic, never really bought into love. Sure, parents supposedly love their kids, but all he's ever known is a father that couldn't (and still can't) be bothered and a mother whose life he's burdened. If he ever voiced that, he knows that she'd give him that look. The sad, wistful one that screams ‘ _what happened to you?_ ’ It would be easier if she just accepted all of the stuff that he gives her. The house, the car and the money. But it's almost as if she knows that it doesn't exactly come from a good place. She's always had this way of just knowing. Maybe that’s love, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel good.  
  
Lauren, his soon to be ex-wife, only knows (or cares) about one facet of him. The part of him that takes and takes without giving two shits about the repercussions. She loves a side of himself that he's ashamed of and while it was never her job to get him on the straight and narrow, he knows that getting out was the best choice. She might have convinced herself that a lying, cheating, thieving husband is what she wants, but Jensen's done this enough times to know that once the thrill fades away, she'll start crying about trust and invading his personal space and so on. And while he was so sure that he could actually love her, he just can't.  
  
He's often thought about it. They had great chemistry, and she didn't care that he was a thief. Proposing seemed like a good idea. His mother was pestering him about settling down, probably hoping that it would help him change his ways. If only she knew. The wedding itself was a blur; all Jensen remembers thinking is that he wished that Jared was there. At that point, they weren't speaking. Jensen was never the one to call and Jared stopped reaching out. Or maybe he was just waiting for Jensen to come back like he usually did. Either way, it stung; though Jensen didn't blame him. It's not like being friends with Jensen was an honour; he was the kind of person who'd fuck you over just because he could. Not that he would ever intentionally do something like that to Jared.  
  
Jared was...for whatever reason, he was Jensen's best friend, his only true friend. Jensen has no idea what Jared ever saw in an asshole like him, especially after they started sleeping together. It's taken him a long time to realize just how badly he behaved, and what he never understood was why he cared so much. The answer hit him in the face when he first contemplated coming back to New York City a few months ago. He'd been back for a few weeks before he finally found the courage to face Jared.  
  
Their meeting didn’t go the way Jensen thought it would. In fact, Jared mentioning Agent Tom Welling made Jensen want to find the man and physically kick his ass. Not only because Tom was a fucking bastard for trying to get to him through Jared, but because he was kind of jealous despite how crazy that was; just like he always was of the few guys Jared dated here and there. Scaring those guys off was never too hard, even though he hated himself for it. Why he did it is has always been a question he couldn't answer.  
  
Until now.  
  
Seeing Jared looking pale, withdrawn and so fucking crushed  _hurts_  Jensen to his core, especially because he's the one who did this. Okay, so he didn't write the article or make Tom do what he did, but on the grand scale of things he knows that he is to blame. He knows and he kind of just expected Jared to forgive him, the same way he always does. Except, that isn't coming. It isn't, and that hurts. Jensen knows that Jared loves him, knows that there was once a time that his best friend would have done anything for him. He knows that Lauren's face smoothed out into a blank expression whenever he mentioned Jared, knows that his mom can't help the fond smile on her face whenever she asks after him. So he decides to tell Jared that he's in love with him.  
  
In hindsight, he probably should have waited.  
  
"I'm in love with you." Jensen's words hang in the air while Jared stares at him blankly. His usually expressive blue-green eyes are devoid of their usual sparkle and for a brief second Jensen wonders if Jared's about to punch him. They got into a full on knockdown fight before. It was shortly before he left. Before Lauren and the article. He can't even remember what it was about, just that Jared was angry at him. And like always, they didn't talk about it.  
  
"What part of  _leave me alone_  don't you understand?" Jared whispers. He's looking down at the floor now, head bowed as his thick, brown hair falls into his eyes. Jensen steps forward, uses three fingers to tilt Jared's head up and his other hand to brush the hair away.  
  
"The part where you've been the only constant in my life for as long as I can remember," he says softly. "And I know that I've...that I've not been good to you. All I'm asking for is one chance. One chance to right all the wrongs and show you that I'm being genuine."  
  
Jared's always been an easy guy to read, at least to Jensen, who's pretty good at this kind of thing. He hates being one of those confidence men whose defence is that their victims (marks, really) were mind-numbingly stupid but it's true. People are too trusting, heck, Jared is too trusting and perhaps the biggest con he pulled off is making Jared believe that he was someone worth being around. He isn't.  
  
However, that doesn't mean that he's not going to go after what he wants.  
  
Jared's looking at him oddly, throat convulsing as he swallows. He looks good, Jensen notes. He always does; Jensen might be an idiot but he's not blind. Jared's dressed in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, top buttons undone to reveal the tan skin at the hollow of his neck.  
  
"You don't know what love is," Jared says eventually. "You don't." There's a bitterness to the words that doesn't surprise Jensen, but yet it stings. It's almost as if Jared's just cut a huge wound and dropped acid in it. Well, that might be a little dramatic, but that's how he feels.  
  
He can’t be sure that he knows what love is given that he’s just left Lauren and isn’t sure if what they had was love or lust disguised as love, but...his feelings for Jared have never been so clear. He would give everything up for him and surely that’s got to be love.  
  
Jensen's about to say something else when a shrill noise sounds. It takes him a few seconds to register that it is an alarm system, despite the fact that he’s heard enough of them in his lifetime what with being a thief and all. He freezes; there's an odd look on Jared's face but Jensen can't focus on it for too long because Jared is setting the mixers down and rushes out into the main area of the gallery. Jensen follows him and doesn’t have to look too far to see what’s going on. Katie is standing in the middle the gallery, horror painted on her face as she stares at one of the main walls. There's a blank canvas where  _Turquoise Marilyn_  is supposed to be and Jensen's first thought is ' _oh shit_ '. His second is that he should probably get out of here as soon as possible before someone tries to point the finger at  _him_. He wouldn’t steal a painting at a party where he’s the guest of honour and he has several million reasons why he wouldn't steal this particular painting. He does have  _some_ morals. Jensen stands back; he can see that Katie is in hysterics but he can only watch as Jared shoves past him and rushes toward her. Instinct says he should follow but Jensen remains where he is, acutely aware of the fact that he's being watched.  
  
"Just so you know, I didn't steal this one," he announces. “I would have the decency to leave a pretty good fake in place. A blank canvas is just, _classless_.” Jared turns to glare at him while he’s mid-smirk and he lets the smile fall from his face. This is Jared’s livelihood, he realises – this is Jared’s life. There are a few murmurs and low whispers, but nobody responds to his comment. He sighs to himself and decides to slip out before the cops get here.

 

 

  
The next day, Jared calls him and informs him that the cops dragged him down to the station on suspicion of theft. At least, that what he thinks he hears, because he can barely get a word in edgeways as Jared goes right from stressed into full on panic mode. When Jensen asks him if they have anything on him, Jared’s response is cluttered at best. Jensen realises that he probably should have called Jared to see what was going on before it even got to this stage but seriously? Professing love for someone is exhausting. With Lauren it was more like, ‘I’m good looking, you’re good looking, we both love money, fast cars, caviar and nice things et voila!’  
  
Though, he’s not really  _that_ sold on caviar (which is probably why it all fell down like a carefully stacked house of cards).  
  
“Are they going to find anything on me? Are they...fuck yes, they are! I'm broke and yeah, so maybe I looked up the painting and not just at work but at home, okay. And I was the one who got the lead about displaying that fucking egg, so yeah - they'll have that too and fuck, I could do with the money. After I lost my last job, I had to dip into my savings. Well, dip is an understatement, I had to use almost all of it.” There’s a pause there, but Jensen’s too flabbergasted to come up with a response that will calm Jared down. He’s never been good at that kind of thing unless it’s part of one of his roles and even then, only after intense preparation.  
  
Jared’s talking again before Jensen can even mumble a word. “In the end I couldn't pay the mortgage on my apartment and I moved into this tiny ass box that I'm still paying WAY too much for. And then the movers disappeared with all of my valuables and then there was the whole thing where I ate ice cream - the store brand kind - straight for about a month and apparently I'm still lactose intolerant - yeah, you don't grow out of that? Crazy, right? Anyway yeah, there was the whole thing with the stomach aches and I ended up in hospital and I had to pay for that. And---"  
  
His instincts finally kick in and he interjects with a swift, “Stop.” Jared cuts himself off immediately, though Jensen can still hear the faint sound of his breathing down the line. He tries to formulate a plan in his head quickly, knowing that the police could potentially use any recording of phone calls against Jared. So far most (well, parts) of what Jared has said isn’t incriminating. Even it is, Jensen has a good lawyer on hand. Well, he has Chris for now at least, and he’s better than most qualified lawyers out there and has the forged documents to prove it. The downside is that Jared knows all about  _that_ because he’s  _Jared_  and Jensen couldn’t resist those curious blue-green eyes when asked probing questions. Even when he knew that things would go sour with Jared’s growing disapproval. Sometimes he wonders why Jared asked. Why ask if the answer is something he didn’t want to hear? He’s resigned himself to the fact that human beings are masochists, constantly swarming into paths of destruction and sadness just to satisfy some inane, idle curiosity that doesn’t benefit them in any way.  
  
“What am I supposed to do, Jensen?” Jared says quietly. “I can’t let my mom down any more than I have already.” That comment strikes home hard because if there’s one thing about Jared that Jensen knows, it’s how he feels about family. While Jensen turned to petty theft (and then later pretty high level theft) to support his mother, Jared worked hard. He sat through four years of that pointless degree, got his pointless piece of paper and worked his way up from that part-time volunteer gig to art consultant. Jensen’s not going to lie, there are days when he looked at Jared and thought that his best friend was an idiot. He doesn’t understand why people go through so much hardship just to end up obeying someone else’s rules and giving everything they’ve earned away.  
  
Honesty and having a clear conscience are the apparent answers, but those are two things that have never concerned Jensen. At least not until this whole  _love_ thing. Jensen’s always had a problem not getting his own way, be it whatever shiny object was on his procurement list or a potential lover. It’s a flaw of his but…he genuinely wants to change. He desperately wants to be the man that Jared thinks he is.  
  
“Just, don’t say another word, okay? I’ll get you out of there.”

 

 

  
Chris comes through and Jensen meets Jared in the lobby of the police station. Jensen’s still not sure who would be bold enough to steal a painting at the damn  _opening_. He’s put the word out on finding the person who did but he doubts that anyone will squeal. It’s not just that he enjoys stealing priceless art. When he was growing up he never understood why a picture could be worth so much. Pictures were supposed to be worth a thousand words not a thousand banknotes. Art is living, it’s always been living, not a still image on a piece of paper. Of course that’s the philosophical way of looking at it.  
  
“Hey, Jensen, we’re done here,” Chris is giving him a pointed look when he snaps out of his reverie, the one that usually means that he doesn’t understand why Jared’s still in the picture. It’s funny that even after ten years Chris still doesn’t trust Jared. Whenever Jensen asks about it, Chris just shakes his head and says, ‘ _Everyone has a limit_ ’. Just four meaningless words that Jensen still doesn’t understand. He leaves before Jensen can even thank him, disappearing into a thrum of people and blurring into an insignificant speck of colour in the distance.  
  
“Did you do this?” Jared rounds on him right away, arms folded close to his chest and grim expression set on his face. “Did you steal the painting?”  
  
His dad leaving for work one morning and never coming back is one of the most painful memories that Jensen has. Of course he learned much later on that his father didn’t so much as abandon them as unsuccessfully rob a bank and end up with a thirty year stretch in prison. The second next painful memory is his farce of a marriage but Lauren rejecting his vow to stop stealing doesn’t come close to Jared thinking that he has  _anything_  to do with _Turquoise Marilyn_  being stolen.  
  
“No,” he says slowly. “You of all people know that I’d never steal Marilyn.” It’s an old joke between them, one of many that Jensen’s sure they both remember. Jared doesn’t look like he’s laughing though, so he buries it quickly and moves on. “What happened?”  
  
“The cops dragged me in and I don't know what's happening," Jared frowns before he says, “According to Chris, they don’t have enough evidence to charge me.”  
  
“Oh,” Jensen says. “That’s good, right?” The smile that Jared gives him is nothing like his bright, glowing grin, the smile that lights up the room. It’s nothing like that, and suddenly Jensen misses that smile fiercely. He wants to crack this weathered shell surrounding Jared and blanket him with his touch---and dear God, this love thing really is making him crazy.  
  
“I suppose so,” Jared says with an odd timbre to his voice. “It’s one worse thing to add to a list of bad things.”  
  
They go back to Jensen's apartment because he doesn't know where else to go. He's not sure what the protocol is for when your best friend/guy you're in love with/person who potentially hates you is questioned about a crime they didn't commit. Usually when a friend of his ends up in jail, they cease to exist (unless he can get something out of helping them, which is just making the best out of a bad situation, really). Still, he feels like a bit of an ass when they climb into his shiny Lexus LFA and pull up at his admittedly ridiculously lavish apartment. He often thinks about whether or not he could give everything up--not just the stealing but all of the crap he's accumulated since he started. For Lauren, he was ready to stop planning heists, to just sit on what he had (or sell whatever he needed to if Lauren somehow lost all of her money), and basically assume his role as the perfect trophy husband. But the shame and guilt eating away at him as he thinks about what Jared's really been through over the past two years is enough to tell him that he'd give it all up. He'd give it all up in a heartbeat just to go back and erase that stupid article; he'd give it up just to see the shadows cast off from Jared's eyes, to make Jared happy.  
  
Of course, he's only human and that's a terrifying thought to have as you're trying to navigate a three hundred thousand dollar car. After a loud screech of brakes and a mostly one-sided slanging match with very irate bimbo in an open-top convertible, he turns to see Jared staring at him incredulously.  
  
“What?” he says defensively. Jared looks at him for a little while longer before shrugging and turning away, leaving them to finish the ride in silence. He keeps wanting to break the ice, joke around maybe and make Jared laugh but he gets the sense that there’s a bridge between them and it’s cracked right down the middle.  
  
Jared is a little shaken up, so Jensen sends him up to the apartment and tells him make himself at home while he surveys the damage done to his car. By the time he's finished sweeping up the shattered glass of his backlight and begging Chris to come and fix it, he realises that neglecting the person he's just confirmed his love to in order to whisper-apologize to his precious Lexus is exactly the reason why said person doesn't believe him.  
  
When he reaches his apartment, Jared's on the phone, in the middle of a heated conversation. "All I'm saying is that I'm not sure that this is a good idea," Jared is saying. "And maybe I'm not the--" He looks up then and sees Jensen. He makes some low excuse and hangs up. Before Jensen can even ask about it, Jared points at a place on a wall. Jensen follows the direction of his finger and grimaces. It's  _[Anguish](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:August_Friedrich_Albrecht_Schenck_-_Anguish_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg) _ by August Friedrich Albrecht Schenck. And coincidentally, one of Jared's favourite paintings.  
  
Well. Maybe it wasn't  _that_  much of a coincidence. It’s not like he makes a habit of putting depressing paintings on his walls just for the sake of it.  
  
"Is that the real deal?" Jared asks in a manner that suggests it wouldn't quite matter anyway.  
  
"I'm guessing you already know the answer to that," Jensen says, because lying is futile. Jared's very good at his job, and he's seen the vast majority of Jensen's work. Jared knows that he's too much of an asshole to not leave some stupid 'signature' on the painting that someone would only be able to detect if they knew where to look for it. "Look, we can talk about everything later. How about you go grab a shower and I make us something? Maybe pancakes?"  
  
Jared stares at him blankly, though the cloud of emotion in his eyes tells Jensen that a storm’s coming. Not Dante's Peak epic, but close. Though that was more of a volcano than a storm, though there's probably a lava themed painting called 'Storm' out there. The world of art is one where people generally find beauty in things not making sense.  
  
"I don't want to fight with you," Jared says. Jensen's heard this line enough times to know that it means that Jared really, really wants to fight with him, and damn if that doesn't make them seem like an old married couple. Not that there's anything wrong with that.  
  
Clearly, this love thing really is making him crazy.  
  
"That's great to hear, Jared," he says anyway, knowing that the inevitable blow up will come anyway. "Now, pancakes?" There's an eye twitch, and Jared’s nostrils flare. Implosion imminent. He turns to the kitchen cupboard and starts to pull out the ingredients, mentally counting down from ten.  
  
“No, I don’t fucking want pancakes!” Jared yells just as he reaches two. “I want you to stop pretending. Just admit that you fucked up and that you know that I won’t forgive you this time. Because I swear to God, I  _will_  punch you if say anything else about love.” Jensen has no doubt in his mind that Jared’s being serious so he decides to put the whole love thing on the back burner for now. It’s not like it’s going to go away overnight. Repairing this mess of a friendship might be a better starting point anyway.

 

 

  
“I admit that I fucked up,” he says. “And I’m sorry. I really am, okay. I—look, I don’t know how to make it up to you, okay?” Jensen really does. He doubts that throwing piles of cash would make things any better. Professing his love hasn’t helped and deflecting the blame elsewhere won’t take away from what he did. It’s sheer stubbornness stopping Jensen from believing that he and Jared are irreparable. He’s never been afraid to go after what he wants so maybe it’s that arrogance that makes him say what he does.  
  
“I can prove to you that I’ve changed. I’ll find out who took that painting. In two weeks we’ll know who it was and I promise that your name will be cleared.” In truth, Jensen’s full of shit. Sure, he might have the upper hand on art theft (and how many people can say that?) but truth be told he’s not been in that world for the past six months. Ridiculously enough, he was getting over Lauren, realising how he felt about Jared and trying to work up the guts to come back to New York. He hasn’t stolen anything in over a year and he doesn’t even miss it. If anything, he misses Jared more, and he’s standing right here in front of him. Jensen’s done feeling like a disappointment in Jared’s eyes, so tired of wishing that he could just do the right thing.  
  
Jared scoffs and Jensen snaps out of his thoughts. “You’re seriously telling me that you had nothing to do with  _Turquoise Marilyn_ being stolen? I’m expected to believe that you just came into town of your own accord and managed to become the guest of honour at  _Cassidy Clarity_  on the same night that an expensive painting was stolen? Do you think that I’m an idiot?”  
  
Jensen flounders momentarily because it does sound bad. It sounds very bad, but he can categorically say that he didn’t steal anything.  
  
“I’ve told you already that it wasn’t me, Jared,” he says calmly. “And I can prove it.”  
  
The look that Jared gives him tells him that he doesn’t believe a word, but Jensen tries not to let it get him down. In two weeks this will all be over. Sure, Jared might still be angry with him then, but at least he’ll be able to trust him. Hopefully.

 

 

  
Jared stays late, probably not wanting to be alone, even though becomes clear to Jensen rather quickly that his presence is not helping. He calls Tom and tries to see if he knows anything about Jared’s case but there’s no answer. With that avenue done and dusted for the time being, Jensen logs onto his email and fires off a couple to his old contacts to see if anyone has put the painting on the black market. Chris comes over to ‘help’, though Jensen isn’t sure that he knows the meaning of the word. Or that Chris is all that concerned with making sure Jared’s name is well and truly clear.  
  
“You realise that you’ve burned all of your bridges, right?” Chris says from where he’s devouring a ham and cheese pizza on Jensen’s couch. “Everyone’s pissed that you quit the business to get  _married_.” Jensen rolls his eyes. Be that as it may, he has enough dirt on these people to send them all away for a long time and he’s not afraid to use it.  
  
“It’s not that,” he tells Chris. “No one seems to have heard anything, or even seen anything. It’s a little weird. And I can’t get through to Jared to ask him if he saw anything suspicious.” Chris snorts and opens a can of beer. Jensen grimaces and holds back from reminding his friend that it’s a  _leather_ couch. He’s not supposed to care about material things anymore. Just about being a better person and well--he can think about that later.  
  
“Do you mind?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, it’s a  _leather_ couch,” Chris says as he stands up and joins Jensen at the coffee table. “We know. You know, I don’t get why finding out who stole the painting should be your problem. Jared’s not exactly ever going to want to be around you. Ever. Seriously, let it go. Sell this place and we’ll just go somewhere else. I know that you think that you’re—“Jensen holds up a hand and stops Chris in his tracks.  
  
“I don’t  _think_ , Chris, I am in love with him,” Jensen sighs. “And even if I wasn’t, we’d still need to find painting.” Chris finishes chewing his bite of pizza before he shrugs, seemingly conceding the point. There’s a ping from his computer and Jensen clicks onto his email quickly, eager to see if anyone’s responded. He sinks when he sees the message.  
  
“Anything good?” Chris asks, wiping his mouth his with his arm. Jensen rolls his eyes and tosses a paper napkin at him.  
  
“It’s another ‘ _go to hell, asshole!’_ ” he replies. “It’s funny, isn’t it? I gave up stealing for Lauren, who decided that she wasn’t into me because I’d given up stealing. And then Jared, who is the one person who would actually appreciate my path into…well, whatever. Jared doesn’t want to know. How the fuck is that fair?”  
  
“Since when have you ever cared about fair?” Chris says with a shrug. “Maybe this is karma.”  
  
Jensen huffs out a dry laugh. Hell, maybe it is.

 

# Part Three

  
  
Jared’s in the middle of pacing around his apartment when he’s started by the shrill tone of his cell phone. He reaches into his pocket and rolls his eyes when he sees that it’s Jensen calling for the twentieth fucking time. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take Jensen up on his offer, it’s just that, he’s so done with all of this. He wants to be in a place where he’s happy and this—this is  _not_  going to get him there. Still, there is something different about Jensen. There’s some vulnerability in his eyes, a warmth where there wasn’t, and apparently it’s directed at  _him_. Jared would be lying if he said that he hasn’t thought about this. He has. Repeatedly and maybe…maybe he owes it to himself to give Jensen a chance to prove himself. He looks back down at the phone display.  
  
“What do you want?” he says, when he picks up the call. Chance or not, he isn’t going to make this easy for Jensen.  
  
“I think I have a lead on the painting,” Jensen says. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.” He cuts off before Jared can even get a word in, just like old times. Jared doesn’t realise he’s smiling until he passes the cracked mirror just above the malfunctioning fireplace. He watches as his smile falls and he takes a deep breath.  
  
He’s got to stop being so damn gullible.

 

 

  
“So you’re actually going to follow Jensen around town looking for the person who stole the painting?” Chad says as if that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. Jared can’t blame him. This entire situation is not ideal. And he doesn’t really want to spend an hour on the phone debating how awful and untrustworthy Jensen is. They’ve done that repeatedly.  
  
“Look, it’s complicated, okay?” Jared replies. “I’ll explain everything to you later. Just...this is something that I need to do. I have no choice.” Chad doesn't seem to be convinced as they hang up but there’s nothing Jared can do about that.  
  
Jensen’s waiting outside in his stupid, shiny car when Jared leaves his building. The water in his apartment is cold and murky but somehow he manages to shower and clean himself up. His hair’s getting too long again but he doesn’t have the heart to cut it himself and there’s no way he can afford a haircut until he’s paid. Fortunately for him, he can redirect the energy from his pity party into being pissed off with Jensen.  
  
“What is this lead that you have?” he asks once he slides into the passenger seat. “Some buddy of yours covering up for you?” Jensen doesn’t answer right away, just pulls away from the curb and drives down the residential street. Jared watches closely as everything goes by in a blur of colour of movement, so lost in his head that he almost doesn’t realise that they’re pulling up right outside  _Cassidy Clarity_.  
  
“Is there any decent parking around here?” Jensen asks. Jared shrugs. It’s not like finding a decent parking lot was high on his list of priorities. No, his was finding the quickest subway route (and there wasn’t one). He lets Jensen figure it out and eventually they reach some kind of hole in the wall courier service.  
  
“So the painting isn’t small, right?” Jensen says as they enter. “And I checked the security cameras for the gallery – they weren't on, by the way. You might want to get Katie to look at that. But yeah, if the thief knew that there were no cameras, all they had to do was work on a way to get the painting out of there undetected. Did you see anything weird over the past few days? Any suspicious people looking around?”  
  
It takes Jared a little while to answer but he manages to stammer out, “N-no. No. None of us saw anything. The police have asked us this already.” Jensen gives him an odd look but doesn’t say anything. He leaves Jared standing there and makes his way over to the counter. Jared’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, sees that it’s a text from his mom.  _Are you okay?_  He snorts. She’s always had some kind of freaky intuition when it comes to him, always known when something’s not right and he’s dreading the moment when he actually sits down to tell her everything. He has a feeling that she’s not as in the dark as he wants her to be. Jared is about to follow Jensen when he notices that his shoelaces are undone; he puts his phone down on a nearby shelf and crouches down to tie them.  
  
"So the guy at the counter says that there was someone who came in with an unusually large parcel the day when the painting went missing,” Jensen informs him as he comes back. “Do you recognise the handwriting?” Jared stands up and looks at the messy scrawl on the scrap of paper. It’s some kind of address. He swallows and shakes his head.  
  
“No, I don’t,” he says. Jensen gives him another strange look and Jared clears his throat. “I thought it looked familiar but no…I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.” Jensen eyes him carefully for a few seconds before he shrugs and goes back to the counter. He’s back almost instantly and he jerks his head towards the door. They’re a couple of paces away from the courier’s when Jared remembers that he left his phone.  
  
“Hey, I left my phone in there,” he says. “I’ll meet you by the car, okay?” Jensen looks like he wants to argue but he doesn’t. He merely nods and continues walking, leaving Jared standing there.  
  
By the time he reaches the car, Jensen’s in the middle of a call. It’s a little awkward when Jared climbs in and realises that the person on the other end is on loudspeaker.  
  
“Look, Lauren, I have to go,” Jensen mutters after he glances at Jared. “Have your lawyer get in touch with mine or whatever. I’m not contesting anything and I don’t want your money, okay?”  
  
“I don’t see why we can’t just do this face to face,” Lauren replies. She sounds different from the bimbos that Jared’s used to seeing Jensen with. Her voice is clipped and low, almost professional, and Jared can tell that she’s not some idiot. Quite why she married someone like Jensen is beyond him but then again, he hasn’t exactly allowed himself to hear a thing about her. Given that Jensen looks frustrated and stressed, he wishes that he had. Jensen might be an asshole, but Jared believes that even assholes should have someone to talk to. He’s a regular saint that way. “Just come back to California, Jensen.” Jensen has one hand on the steering wheel and he looks out of the window, takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. It’s startling just to see how cut up Jensen is over this conversation, this  _woman,_  and it makes Jared tense up. He feels like he’s intruding on a private moment and he wishes that he could have delayed his return to the car by a few minutes.  
  
“It’s done, Lauren,” Jensen’s voice has got a sad note to it, “Just…look, I’ll call you later, okay?” He cuts the call off before she can say anything and wastes no time in starting the car. Jared turns his thoughts to the painting when it becomes clear that Jensen’s in no mood for talking. Chad thinks that teaming up with Jensen is a monumentally bad idea. Apparently Jared’s a pushover with no backbone when it comes to Jensen and even though he argues that he’s not, it’s the truth.  
  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, just as the silence starts to become overbearing. It’s well into the afternoon and there’s traffic as per usual, with a whole array of yellow surrounding them on the road. Jared always wonders why people don’t just get the subway when they know that their cabbie will probably end up in stasis, along with the rest of them.  
  
Jensen chuckles mirthlessly. “Do  _you_  want to talk about it or are you just trying to be nice? I know you, remember? Even assholes need to have someone to talk to, right?”  
  
Jared glares at him. “Forget that I offered.” He turns to look out of the passenger window and there’s more awkward silence. He mentally counts down in his head, knowing that it won’t take Jensen long to take him on his offer. Five, four, three, two, on—  
  
“Okay fine,” Jensen snaps. “We just self-destructed because I wanted to quit stealing and conning people and I don’t know, settle down and have a family. She didn’t want that and it feels like she used me for something. I don’t know what because she had all the money but I…it…”  
  
“It hurts,” Jared fills in the blanks. “Her rejecting you like that hurts. You…must have really loved her.” The mere thought sends a searing pain through Jared’s heart because he’s always wished that one day Jensen would realise that  _he’s_  here and finally see that  _he’s_  good enough to love. It’s pathetic and ridiculous but Jared’s never been able to help himself. Not when it comes to Jensen.  
  
Jensen glances at him briefly before turning his eyes to the road. There’s a screech of brakes in the distance and finally the traffic starts to ease up. They’re in his apartment parking lot before Jensen speaks again. He kills the engine and leans back in his seat.  
  
“I thought that I loved her but...I don’t know, Jared,” he admits. “The first couple of months things were good but after we got married and moved in together, it was like we were under each other’s feet and I thought it would get better if we spent more time together but she was more concerned with watching me steal Faberge eggs or an original Matisse. It was like that was all she cared about. I told her a million times that I worked alone. That I only stole things because it's all that I'm good at, not because I still enjoy it.”  
  
“Not to burst your bubble or anything, but you took me along on that pink diamond heist,” Jared points out. “Without my knowledge, but that’s neither here nor there.” Jensen grins at the memory, turning to give Jared a look that runs deeper than reminiscence. There’s something else there and it takes Jared’s breath away. Not for the first time, he wishes that things weren't so complicated. He longs for there to be a time where there’s no baggage, just _them_.  
  
“Yeah, well, you’re different,” Jensen replies. “You’ve always been different. And I should have listened to you back then when you told me that I was better than forging other people’s artwork. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not proud of, Jared and I’m sorry about that.”  
  
“It’s not me you need to apologise to,” Jared retorts. “What about all the people you’ve screwed over?”  
  
Jensen’s smile dims, finally faltering and morphing into a blank expression. “The vast majority of them are probably just fine. I didn’t steal anyone’s livelihood or anything like that.” Jared wants to laugh, because Jensen still doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get that it’s not just about money. It’s about toying with people’s emotions and leaving them with no answers when his time is up. It’s about  _using_  people to get what he wants.  
  
Jensen just doesn’t get it.

 

 

  


  
“So what do you want to do for the rest of the day…” Jensen asks him when they’re back inside. Things are tense and awkward now they are both just _here_. “You can tell me more details about who was at the party and I can put some feelers out.”  
  
Jared snorts, “What are you, a cop?” He doesn’t realise what he’s said until Jensen’s features freeze and the awkwardness is kicked up a couple of notches. He would really rather be at the gallery, but Katie thinks that it’s best for him to let the furore calm down first. He could go home, but that’s depressing in itself.  
  
“I just want to find whoever did this so you can go back to doing your thing at the gallery,” Jensen tells him. Jared can’t really argue with that. “I’m not going to let anyone screw this up for you.” That intensity is back in Jensen’s eyes and Jared’s drawn to it, almost as if there’s some magnetic force at work. There’s definitely some sincerity there, he’s just not sure if he truly believes in it.  
  
Eventually they get to talking about about random things before moving onto art; their conversation flows a lot more easily when the alcohol comes out, and they do a good job of pretending that they aren’t in a messy situation that feels like a bunch of bees swarming around them, ready to sting them when they least expect it.  
  
He ends up staying over at Jensen’s purely because they somehow manage to do that thing where they get wasted and don’t talk about their issues. It’s a miracle that they don’t end up sleeping together but that’s probably only because Jensen doesn’t initiate anything because Jared would have been willing. He always is, probably always will be.  
  
“So, I took down that address from yesterday,” Jensen says around his cup of coffee. It’s early, around eight in the morning, and they’re having breakfast. It should be weird. Jared should be wishing that he’s somewhere else,  _anywhere_ else but in truth, he’d rather be here than in his shitty apartment. “Thought we’d go check it out.”  
  
“Maybe we should just leave this to the cops,” Jared says, not looking at Jensen. He busies himself with drenching his pancakes in syrup. “I don’t want either of us to end up getting in trouble.”  
  
“I said that I’d find out who did this in two weeks and I meant it,” Jensen replies firmly. “It’s time for us to get your life on track. And that starts with your apartment.” Jared frowns at that. Yeah, it’s a shithole but he’ll be damned if he lets Jensen swan back into his life and suddenly start playing hero.  
  
Jensen clears his throat and continues. “I got you out of your lease and before you get pissed, I had to, okay? You can stay here until we find you somewhere better.” For some reason it’s the ‘ _we_ ’ that does it. Call Jared an idiot, but maybe Jensen can be trusted for once. Perhaps he genuinely wants to help Jared out.  
  
“Thank you,” he says slowly. “I think. You’re not doing this because you’re hoping that I’ll suddenly accept that you’re in love with me, or whatever, and we live happily ever after?”  
  
Jensen exhales deeply and shakes his head. “You know I’ve been meaning to ask you. If you hate me so much, why did you have sex with me? Why are you here? It’s not like I’m keeping you here.”  
  
“Oh really, you just told me that you’ve gotten rid of my apartment. Pretty sure that means that you’re keeping me here.”  
  
“Okay, fine. Point,” Jensen snaps. “But that’s a recent development. It doesn’t explain why you slept with me. I thought you had ‘ _morals’_.” Or maybe Jensen  _can’t_ be trusted because Jared doesn't know where this is coming from. If anyone should be upset here, it’s  _him_.  
  
Jared practically throws his fork down. “What do you know about  _morals_?”  
  
“Enough to know that you don’t lead people on by sleeping with them repeatedly.”  
  
“Are you seriously accusing  _me_  of leading  _you_ on?” Jared retorts. “I’m  _your_  booty call, remember? You come into town, crawl through my window and shove your tongue down my throat.” Jared grimaces at how  _wrong_  that sounds but clearly Jensen doesn’t see it that way.  
  
“Oh and you’re never a willing participant, right?” Jensen shoots back. “You’re never the one begging for it? You’re a fucking hypocrite, Jared.” They’re squaring up to each other now, pancakes forgotten and coffee going cold. Somehow they’ve gravitated to the kitchen doorway and Jensen’s green eyes are flashing with anger, and he looks so good in his threadbare tank top and too-long sweatpants. Jared’s eyes gravitate to the lines of his shoulders and the muscles under his shirt and so help him God, he  _wants_. Which kind of does make him a hypocrite, but whatever.  
  
“Timeout,” he says. “Timeout. Can we just—“  
  
He stops and waves a hand around, knowing that Jensen will get what he means.  
  
Jensen gives him a dry look. “Really, you want to have sex right now?”  
  
Jared scoffs. “Oh like  _you_  don’t.” They glare at each other for a few minutes before one of them darts forward – Jared’s not sure – and suddenly they’re kissing. It’s not gentle or soft but rough and hard.

 

 

  
"Stop thinking so much,” Jensen grunts before he goes back to attacking Jared’s mouth. Somehow they manage to make it from the doorway and one of them breaks away long enough to murmur ‘bedroom’. When they get there Jensen's kissing him again as they stumble in and move until they’re on the bed, with Jared on his back and Jensen writhing on top of him. They're rutting against each other, movements sloppy and slow as they nip and bite at each other’s mouths. Soon they’re jerking each other off, hands slipping down underwear, rubbing against their slick cocks as they pant into each other’s mouths. He feels Jensen shuddering his release moment before he comes and Jared can’t help smiling into Jensen’s neck happily. It lasts a brief second before he catches himself and sobers up. He pushes Jensen off him gently, knowing fully well that this isn’t the end of it.  
  
“You’re doing a real good job at showing me how much you hate being my booty call,” Jensen gripes and Jared feels that same rush of lust-mixed annoyance, coupled with a strong desire to shut Jensen the fuck up.  
  
“Maybe you should ask yourself why it’s easier for me to fuck you than it is to look at you,” Jared snaps.  
  
Jensen scoffs. “No one’s asking you to look at me.” It sounds like an invitation because it’s Jensen, this is what he does. And maybe Jared’s a sucker for not being strong enough to resist.  
  
“Just, shut up, okay?” he bites out quickly, turning to kiss Jensen’s stupid mouth before he can say anything. Angry, stupid sex is much better than hashing things out and dragging up feelings. Jensen’s immediately receptive of the kiss, his arms twining around Jared’s frame as they grapple with each other. Jensen relents easily enough when Jared flips him onto his back and he doesn’t even bother to fully undress, just shucks off his jeans and looks at Jared expectantly. Jared rolls his eyes but he does the same, moving momentarily to grab lube and condoms from the nightstand. That Jensen has them there makes him flush a little because hell, maybe he is that easy. Maybe Jensen’s right about him not having a problem with being a booty call.  
  
“Less thinking, more fucking,” Jensen says, breaking into Jared’s thoughts. “Unless you want to argue about who does what? Seems to be your favourite thing these days.” Quite why Jensen is pissed with him is a mystery but Jared just goes with it as he slicks his fingers and opens Jensen up gently. Jensen tenses slightly but relaxes quickly enough and Jared adds a second and a third finger, scissoring them widely and decidedly ignoring the way his heart is pounding in his chest. Jensen gets twitchy and starts whining for Jared to just ‘do it’ and he pulls back and puts the condom on quickly, slicking himself after because damn if he’s going to end up hurting Jensen – at this point his ‘best friend’ isn’t even worthy of that.  
  
“Jared, come on,” Jensen moans from where he’s lying, his cock slowly filling with blood as he recovers from earlier. Jared inches into Jensen slowly, hoping that’ll shut him up. God knows, this is easier when they don’t talk and just fuck each other and pretend that everything’s okay after—Jared cuts his thoughts off this time and slides all the way in, revelling in the way he feels the reverberation of Jensen’s groan. He doesn’t give Jensen time to get used to the sensation before he pulls out and slams back in, suddenly channelling all of his frustration into his thrusts. Jensen’s spilling out a litany of curses and encouragement but Jared blocks it all out and just focuses on fucking Jensen as hard as possible.  
  
The bed creaks beneath them and beads of sweat starts to fall into his eyes as the first tendrils of his orgasm start to creep down his spine. Neither of them last long, Jensen coming seconds after Jared empties his load into the condom, thrusts becoming lazy as he watches Jensen get himself off with his hands. There’s silence as he pulls out, instantly missing the warmth from being inside Jensen. The usual whisper of regret starts to filter in and Jared wonders what the hell is wrong with him. One minute he’s in love with his best friend and the next, he’s judging himself for going after what he wants - judging himself for even contemplating believing what Jensen’s saying. He gets rid of the condom and flops back down to Jensen.  
  
He wants to say something but he can’t.  
  
“So about that address,” Jensen says sleepily two hours later when they’re lying in bed, exhausted and fucked out. “We should go and check it out and see what’s there.” He says it nonchalantly, as if they didn’t just have a major argument. Part of Jared is tempted to take the misdirection for what it is, but he’s done pretending. For the first time he just wishes that they can have a normal conversation that isn’t riddled with double-meanings and regrets.  
  
“You’re right, I am a hypocrite,” he admits, picking up from their previous conversation. “I was a willing participant in everything that we did. I admit that. But you’ve been downright hot and cold. One night things would be good and the next, I’d have to sit there and watch you all over someone else. I covered for you, I always let you into my homes. I was there when things didn’t work out. I was there. So maybe I’m a hypocrite, but I’m not a complete fuck up of a friend and I’m not a self-absorbed asshole.”  
  
“You’re not a hypocrite, Jared,” Jensen replies softly. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just angry that you were angry with me for trying to do the right thing. But I overstepped the mark and I’m sorry.”  
  
“Why are you being so…different?” Jared asks. “The old Jensen didn’t apologise for anything.”  
  
Jensen runs a hand down Jared’s bare arm lazily. “Yeah, well, he was an asshole.” Jared doesn’t dispute that, and neither of them say much after.  
  
Words just aren’t enough at the moment.

 

 

  
After a day of fruitless searching, Jared leaves Jensen and goes to meet Chad for drinks. The address ended up leading them to a parking lot across town and they didn’t have much else to go on, so they’ve reached an impasse for now. For some reason, Jared can’t get their argument out of his head. He can’t stop wondering if maybe he’s the real problem behind his and Jensen's issues. Their friendship’s probably always been a little unhealthy but it is because of  _him_?  
  
“You’re damn right it’s because of you,” Chad snorts when Jared asks him. “You treat him like he’s a fucking saint. You drop everything and everyone when he’s in town, you never say no to him. Despite everything? How many times do I need to tell you this?!”  
  
“Geez, okay, don’t sugar-coat it.” He doesn’t say any more than that, knowing that Chad will change the subject if he’s quiet for long enough.  
  
Chad socks him in the arm. “So what’s happening with your job? I heard that a painting went missing?” Jared feels that same twinge of guilt he gets when Chad seems to know what’s going on, even though Jared hasn’t checked in with him for a while.  
  
“Yeah,” he answers. “Jensen says he’s going to find out who did it within two weeks.” Chad cracks up at that. Genuine, loud laughter spills from his mouth as Jared sits there and stares at him.  
  
“Please tell me that you’re not that gullible,” Chad says.  
  
Jared smiles at him bitterly. “Oh, I’m not. Don’t worry, Chad. I’ve got this all under control.”  
  
Chad doesn’t look convinced.

 

 

  
Back when Jared and Jensen were inseparable, there was always in a thorn in their side. That thorn is called Christian Kane and he hates Jared for whatever reason. Perhaps he’s jealous or just an angry little man, Jared doesn’t know (or even care that much). He just doesn’t understand why Jensen needs to drag him  _and_  Chris along to meet some guy called Johnny.  
  
“Look, let’s just say that Johnny and I aren’t on the best of terms right now,” Jensen says when he gets back from his run. He’s all sweaty and well—Jared isn’t sure what’s worse, having to spend a single minute with Chris or sitting at the kitchen table and pretending that he doesn’t want to jump Jensen. “If I didn’t need to help you, I would not go anywhere near him.”  
  
“If he’s that dangerous, then we can find another way,” Jared reasons, but Jensen shakes his head. He tilts his head back and takes a long swig from his water bottle, leaving Jared to stare dreamily at his exposed neck. It takes Chris clearing his throat to get Jared to snap out of it, and he realises that he’d forgotten that the other man was even there.  
  
“If anyone knows where the painting is, it’ll be Johnny,” Chris says. “We kind of don’t have a choice.”  
  
“And if I thought that Chris would be adequate back up, I wouldn’t even involve you but he’s not because he busted his shoulder in Kiev,” Jensen informs him.  
  
Chris grumbles under his breath. “Yeah, see if I help you on a heist again, asshole.”  
  
"I can't actually throw a punch,” Jared says. “So I’m not sure how good I’ll be at offering protection.”  
  
For some reason Chris and Jensen conduct the next part of the conversation via a series of different facial expressions and Jared realises why  _he_  hates Chris as much as the man hates him. He’s always been kind of jealous of how close he is to Jensen, and of the fact that while Jensen was happy to listen to Chris, it seemed as if everything he said was ignored.  
  
“There’s a punching bag in the basement,” Chris says, after there’s been a lengthy pause. “I can show you a few things while Jensen’s getting ready.”  
  
Twenty minutes later, Jared lands on his ass for the fifth time as Chris trips him up once again. He gets the distinct feeling that he’s getting a real kick out of this. “Do you have to go so hard on me?”  
  
Chris holds out a hand, waiting for Jared to accept it before he helps him to his feet. ”Oh, this ain’t nothing, kid.” Jared rolls his eyes. Of course it isn’t.  
  
“You’re playing with fire, you know that right?” Jared’s not expecting  _that_. Chris typically grunts at him and ignores him, when he’s not inexplicably glaring at him. “I thought that you would have gotten over him by now but you’re still an open book.”  
  
Jared gapes at Chris. “Shouldn’t this conversation be going the other way around? You tell me that he’s really changed and that I should give him a chance?  
  
Chris snorts, “I might be a lot of things but I ain’t a liar. He’s going through one of those life-crisis things or whatever. He’s not thinking straight. And you and I both know that he’s not the most aware person. He’s selfish and if I was you, I’d wait out these two weeks and then tell him that you want nothing to do with him.”  
  
“He’s your best friend, Chris,” Jared says, surprised that Chris is warning him away from Jensen, of all people. “Or are you worried that he’s not going to change his mind about giving up on the theft, worried that he won’t be your meal ticket for much longer?” Chris has always been Jensen’s unofficial sidekick/enabler. He provides Jensen (and others) with fake identification, disguises and in some cases, money. In return he gets a cut of the profits. If anything, Jared should be warning Jensen away from Chris.  
  
“I’m looking out for  _you_ , for once,” Chris retorts. “I know Jensen and I know you. Since the day I met you, you’ve had that same puppy dog, lovesick expression in your eyes and I know more than anybody that there’s only so much one person can take. I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret.”  
  
“How do you know that I haven’t done that already?” Jared asks. He kicks out a leg, hooks it around Chris’s and finally succeeds in bringing him down, as unfair as it may be. Chris lays there for a second; there’s a contemplative look on his face.  
  
“You’re too much of a nice guy, Jared,” he replies in the end. “You’re a nice guy and you’re playing with sharks. Just remember that.” Chris gives him a meaningful look and heads towards the door, leaving Jared to snort and shake his head. If Chris knew what Jared truly thought of him, he'd revise his opinion pretty damn quickly.

 

 

  
Johnny appears an interesting character, as far as Jared can tell, based on his appearance. He's wearing a tan mackintosh, dark chinos, and aviator shades that contrast with his bleached blond hair. Johnny raises a hand in greeting as Jensen drives into the warehouse, and hits a button to close the door behind them." The whole thing screams  _shady,_  and Jared wonders what he’s doing here. There’s no denying that he’s a little excited at the thought of looking into Jensen’s world but he doesn’t bother to go into why that is. It’s not like he’s ever going to voice it, not with how upset Jensen is over Lauren (which he still doesn’t really understand).  
  
“Well, well, well, what do we have here then?” Johnny’s cockney English baritone sounds into the empty, vacuous space and Jensen grounds his car to a halt. “Ah, Jensen Ackles, mate. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” Jensen gets out and Chris follows suit, leaving Jared sitting there in the backseat. They both turn to look at him, Chris even going so far as to mouth ‘ _Get the fuck out’_  before Jared realises that he’s supposed to be flanking Jensen against…the two very burly men currently standing behind Johnny. With a gulp he scrambles out of the car and joins Chris who rolls his eyes at him.  
  
“I take it that you heard about  _Turquoise Marilyn_ ,” Jensen says smoothly. “I wanted to know if you knew anything and—" He trails off when the burly men step forward. Johnny smiles from behind his shades.  
  
“You remember our last meeting, Ackles?” Johnny says. “You conned me out of a hundred grand. And you know that the one thing I hate is when people mess with my money.” Jared side-glances at Chris who’s staring down at the floor. His heart beats rapidly in his chest as he thinks that he could have tried harder to put a stop to this, he just – he didn’t really believe Jensen and Chris when they said that this guy was the real deal and suddenly being beaten to a pulp isn’t worth whatever this guy can (or can’t) tell them about  _Turquoise Marilyn_. A phone rings suddenly, startling all of them. Johnny pats at his pockets and pulls out his iPhone and checks it briefly.  
  
“It ain’t mine.”  
  
“Ain’t mine either,” one of the burly men says.  
  
Chris shrugs. “It’s not me.”  
  
Jensen turns back to look at him. “Jared, it’s  _you_.” Jared is puzzled for a few seconds before he realises that yep, that’s his phone vibrating and ringing loudly. He pulls it out and looks at the display and decides that he kind of has to pick it up.  
  
“Just give me a minute, okay?” he says. “Don’t start fighting without me.” Jensen’s eyes are wide and Chris literally has his face in his hands but Jared doesn’t really have a choice.  
  
“Now’s not really a good time,” he says to the person on the other end.  
  
She scoffs. “I could come down and arrest you if you want, Padalecki.” Jared’s about to respond with his own witty comeback when one of the burly guards rips his phone out of his hand, throws it onto the ground and steps on it with a large steel-capped boot. Jared jumps in shock as he watches his phone crack into several pieces. There’s a terrifying moment when the burly guard steps forward but he merely leans down and extracts the SIM card.  
  
“You can talk later,” he growls. “Right now, we’re doing business.” Jared gulps as he nods. He takes the SIM and goes back to stand behind Jensen, who’s looking at him like he’s grown a second head.  
  
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Chris hisses. Jared ignores him. He suddenly feels keyed up and when the burly guard walks past him, he grabs the guy's shoulder and punches him in the face. There’s a brief pause as Johnny frowns at him and Jensen gapes, his mouth open but no words coming out. Chris looks surprised and the guard? Well, he looks pissed. The silence is overtaken by a flurry of activity and soon Jared’s throwing punches, ducking blows and tripping up the other guard when he charges towards him. Eventually the two burly guards grab Jared simultaneously and drag him towards a door. He struggles unsuccessfully, their grip too tight for him to get out of.  
  
The last thing he hears is Jensen screaming his name.

 

# Part Four

  
  
Jensen’s pacing around his apartment nervously when his front door opens and Jared steps in. His sigh of relief is so strong that his knees almost give way, but he manages to pull himself together. He fires off a quick text to Chris to let him know that Jared’s back, and then he rushes forward to see if he’s okay. He hasn't heard from Jared since the disaster of a meeting with Johnny, even though he and Chris have spent the past few hours roaming up and down the city, trying to find out where a scumbag like Johnny would take him. Jensen snorts to himself.  _Fucking Johnny._  
  
Jared looks absolutely exhausted as he nods sluggishly and makes his way over to the couch, sinking down onto it with a long suffering sigh. His knuckles are cut, his hand is pink from where the skin has split from his earlier exertions, and there’s a pink bruise on his cheek, but apart from that he doesn’t look too hurt. Jensen’s got to admit that when he said he needed backup, he hadn’t really expected things to escalate. Johnny was a little eccentric but usually fair. Of course, there was no accounting for how angry he was, given that Jensen owed him several hundred thousand dollars.  
  
“Are you alright?” Jensen asks, after hurrying to the couch. He luckily didn’t come out with too many injuries, given that he and Johnny knew they were inexperienced enough to stay out of any major fisticuffs with each other, but the first aid kit he used to clean up a scratch on his arm remains on the coffee table. Jared doesn’t even look up at him, just keeps his eyes straight ahead and says nothing. The twitch in his jaw tells Jensen that he’s angry, which isn’t a surprise in itself. Jensen’s used to people being angry at him. His mother, Lauren, and hell even Chris. It doesn’t usually bother him. He’s a conman; he  _thrives_  on other people’s anger.  
  
Unless it’s Jared and it feels like someone’s slowly ripping out his insides.  
  
“No, I’m not,” Jared snaps. “I went to get my phone replaced so I could call my mom and let her know that I don’t know when I’ll be able to send her money next. Do you want to know what she said?” Jensen gulps at the sheer venom in Jared’s voice. See, when Jensen was getting Jared out of his lease, he may have gone a step further and snooped around. He may also have paid Jared’s mom’s mortgage off and deposited enough in her account to cover Jared’s sister’s tuition fees. It made sense at the time. It’s not like Jared would have accepted money from him and, honestly, Jensen doesn’t think he can watch as Jared scrambles to find money for other people even though he doesn’t have anything for himself. And okay, maybe he was trying to get back into Jared’s good books.  
  
“You told her about the article!” Jared’s voice is louder as Jensen snaps back to the present. “About everything.” Ah. Right. Jensen’s not sure why Jared didn’t tell his mom about the article; it’s not like he has anything to hide. He wasn’t, and has never been, Jensen’s accomplice, and last time Jensen checked, being someone’s best friend wasn’t a crime.  
  
Jensen moves to sit next to Jared, who wastes no time in shifting away. “She already knew about the article, Jared. Not that it’s a big deal. It was two years ago, Jared. And all I told her was that I owed you some money and that you wanted me to pay it to her directly. That’s it. As far as she knows, you still work at the  _Gagosian_ and everything is hunky-dory.”  
  
“You don’t get it, do you?” Jared says harshly. “You and I are on thin ice as it is. I don’t want you to call my mom and tell her anything. I don’t want you to give her money. In fact, what I want you to do is leave me alone. Why is that so hard for you to do?”  
  
Jensen is stunned, though he probably shouldn’t be. What he doesn’t understand is what the hell happened with Johnny to make Jared so angry. “Look, you don’t look all that hurt, so I’m guessing Johnny took you as some sort of message. Message received. You could have called, sent a text, whatever, but you chose to come back here. You can’t come back here and then say that  _I_  won’t leave you alone.” Jensen moves to open the kit and pulls out the antiseptic and Band-Aids, thinking that they might as well do something about Jared’s hands while they argue. He moves closer and tries to take Jared’s hands.  
  
“You got rid of my apartment!” Jared explodes into a fit of rage, snatching his hands away and shoving Jensen  _hard_  with an outstretched hand. Jensen can see the way his eyes dim seconds after, knows that Jared regrets it instantly. The anger is still there though, and Jensen doesn’t know how to diffuse it. He’s all out of ideas, so he decides to leave.  
  
“Look, we’re not going to get anywhere by arguing,” he says calmly. “It’s been a long day so why don’t you just stay here? I’m not going to bother you; I’m going to go and stay with Chris, and I’ll be back tomorrow and we can talk about everything then, okay? Grab a shower and get some sleep. Help yourself to whatever you need.”  
  
He sits there as Jensen makes his way to his bedroom and hastily packs an overnight bag, ignoring the silent pang in his chest and fighting back the urge to  _stay_.  
  
He’s by the door when Jared stops him and presses a piece of paper into his hand. Jared’s touch is warm and Jensen feels a tingle as skin touches skin. He glances at Jared’s hands once again, feels a twinge of sympathy and meets Jared’s eyes.  
  
“At least let me clean your hands up for you,” he says gently. Jared looks at him for a long moment before he nods and holds them out, somewhat pointlessly, though it doesn’t make the gesture any less important to Jensen. It means that there’s still hope.  
  
He looks up into blue-green eyes and tells himself not to give up.

 

 

  
It takes several arguments, but Chris eventually agrees lets him stay at his place. Jensen isn’t sure why everyone is riding him so hard all of a sudden. He wants to change, wants to start living an honest life, but to Chris and Lauren, he’s fooling himself. His mother thinks he’s a lost cause and Jared's seems to think that he has ulterior motives.  
  
Jensen just can’t win.  
  
He ends up creeping out in the middle of the night and meeting Tom at some hole in the wall twenty-four hour diner. He knows that Tom isn’t looking for a late dinner or early breakfast, but right now it’ll be nice to spend some time with someone who doesn’t hate his guts. Or at least, that's what he thinks while he waits on the red hardback chairs, wishing that he’d changed from his Gucci loafers into his sneakers. He huffs out a quiet laugh as he realises how ridiculous he must look. It’s not that he’s obsessed with labels; it’s just a facet of the life that he hasn’t been able to shake. People are desperate to attach themselves to people who they think are better than them. It makes them feel good, gives them a bit of an ego boost, which in turn gives him the confidence that he needs to rip them off. Even right now in this diner, the waitress has already slipped him her number and there’s a guy studying who’s looked up at him at least twenty times.  
  
Life is all about presentation. People are attracted to nice-looking things - they’re  _distracted_  by them - so all Jensen has to do is look the part and voila, stage one is complete.  
  
“You’re a little overdressed for a late night pow-wow, aren’t you?” Tom jostles the table as he sits down, his body slightly too large for the frame of the chair. Gone is the standard dark FBI suit and in its place is a pale blue hoodie, white crew neck shirt and dark jeans. He looks  _plain_  and Jensen realises that Tom is just a regular guy. He’s not some asshole pig that Jensen can fuck into submission, he’s just a guy. Suddenly he feels like the  _asshole_. Finding it easy to use people isn’t an excuse--it never should have been--and bile rises in his throat as he thinks about just how many people he’s screwed over. That Tom hasn’t arrested him already is a miracle.  
  
“Why did you agree to meet me here?” he asks, as Tom glances through the menu. “We’re not exactly friends. In fact, if anyone has an honest to God reason to hate me, it’s  _you_ , yet here you are. Why?” Tom deliberately flips the menu slowly and takes his time to look up and meet Jensen’s gaze head on. None of the easy acceptance and readable emotions from their previous relationship are there and Jensen discovers that he can’t actually get a good read on the guy anymore. It’s amazing how much can change in two years. Jared, now Tom, and hell, even fucking Johnny! He gets the feeling that there are more surprises lurking in the shadows, just waiting to shatter his existence one at a time.  
  
Tom shrugs lazily. “Let’s just say that I’m not one to turn down free food. And that just because I haven’t gotten you back for fucking me over, it doesn’t mean that I don’t intend to.” There’s no heat or malice behind the words, but Jensen believes them. He has enemies and he knows that one way or another, they will come for him. He knew that when he decided to get out of the game and he’s okay with it.  
  
Besides, if there’s anything he’s good at, it’s getting himself out of trouble.

 

 

  
After leaving Tom with nothing but a muttered goodbye, he makes his way back to Chris’s place, where he has a mostly sleepless night. He takes a shower in the morning before searching Google for the address Jared gave him. It’s a cemetery, which is certainly strange but he’s done business in weirder places.  
  
“Where are you going?” Chris asks when Jensen saunters out from the guest room. “Do you need me to come with you?” Jensen snorts because they do this all the time. Have a big blowout and then pretend that nothing ever happened. Chris has his back and Jensen has his. It’s the stuff that friendships are made of, except Jared is proof that resentment can build. It’s just a matter of when it will bubble over the surface and while Chris is one of the most easy-going people that Jensen knows, there’s been underlying tension for a while. Not just because he disagrees with Jensen on leaving his criminal lifestyle and Lauren; there’s something else.  
  
“You know what, you should do something for yourself today,” he says mock-teasingly. “I’m sure any spa will give you a good deal when they see your ugly mug.” Chris rolls his eyes but there’s a smile there and Jensen knows that all is forgiven once again.  
  
For now.

 

 

  
Pulling up at a cemetery when he doesn’t have any real reason to be there is kind of unsettling. Driving past the tombstones and planes of green grass makes his stomach churn. He catches sight of the different assortments of flowers placed near some headstones – roses, lilies, daffodils - and he wonders why people even leave them there. What good does it do the dead person? His phone buzzes and he glances at it once he’s parked the car. It’s Lauren. He sighs, hard and weary, as he deletes the notification and snaps his case shut. She’s been calling him repeatedly and he just doesn’t know what else there is to say. He doesn’t know how else he can make her see that he’s not coming back.  
  
“Excuse me, sir, but you must be Mr Ackles, yes?” Jensen looks up to see a short, balding man peering into his car window. The man is eyeing his car with obvious interest and there’s a brief pause as he waits for the man to back up and exits the vehicle.  
  
Jensen frowns down at the man, not bothering to remove his shades. The sun has been shining brightly all day long, almost like it knows that Jensen didn’t get any sleep overnight. The dull throb behind his eyes is easy to ignore right now but he knows from past experience that it’s only going to get worse. “That’s me.”  
  
“Well, I was left strict instructions to show you to your mother’s grave,” the man says. “I’m so sorry for your loss, by the way.” The man doesn’t provide his name and Jensen doesn’t ask him for it. He remembers the man’s face, and that’s all he needs to retain. Names, contrary to popular belief, are meaningless.  
  
“Who left the instructions?” It’s clear that whoever stole the painting is taunting him somehow and hell, maybe Jensen will make a list of potential enemies when he gets back to his apartment. Jared’s right when he said that it isn’t a coincidence that the painting went missing shortly after he arrived in town, at a party where he was guest of honour, no less. Perhaps the police picking up Jared was never meant to be part of the plan. Maybe he’s been the target all along.  
  
The man scratches his head and appears to be deep in thought before he says, “I’m getting on in my old age, sir. I’m afraid I can’t remember. They said that you’d know what this was about when you saw your mother’s grave, which is right this way. Just follow me.” Jensen trails the man across several rows of plots before they finally stop at a tombstone that reads  _Marilyn Scott, 1937 – 2015. Each year she was on Earth, was worth more than a million._ Jensen swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he re-reads the message.  
  
“I can find my own way out, thanks,” he tells the man and he watches in silence as the man scuttles away. Before he can focus on the grave, he feels a pinprick on his neck, hairs standing on edge as if there’s some kind of presence behind him. He looks around but he doesn’t see anything. Turning back to the grave, his eyes catch on the flowers that have been spread across it. Yellow tulips. Someone really  _is_  toying with him. And he thinks that he knows who it is. Before he leaves, he snaps a picture with his phone quickly and sends it to Chris, accompanied by a ‘?’.  
  
He contemplates sending it to Jared, but something stops him.

 

 

  
He waits until he’s on the freeway before he puts in a call to Lauren, putting his phone on speaker so that some jumped up asshole of a cop won’t give him a ticket. The last thing he needs is to give the police an excuse to bring him in. That’s just a whole can of worms that never needs to be opened because Jensen’s man enough to admit that he can’t handle jail. Not just because he has a strict moisturising process, but because it reminds him of his Dad, of being bullied at school and locked up in the shed behind the schoolyard for being the kid with the locked up dad. It reminds him that he’s fucked up, and the last thing that Jensen wants is to be stuck in four walls while he throws himself a one man pity party.  
  
“Jensen, I’ve been trying to call you,” Lauren says, annoyance rife in her tone. Jensen remains wordless for a while as he imagines how she looks. There’s probably that little dip in between her brow that he used to find adorable, her mouth is probably downturned, eyes wide as she plays up just how upset she is. Jensen tries to dredge up some kind of  _feeling_  towards her but all he feels is guilt.  
  
“Sorry, I’ve been busy. And actually, I wanted to ask you something.”  
  
Lauren snorts angrily. “So we don’t even need to bother with the pleasantries anymore? I’m not worth a ‘Hi, Lauren. How are you?’ anymore?”  
  
“You always did say that I was a shitty husband,” Jensen retorts. It’s the truth. Sure, it might be easier to think of their relationship in stages. The good and the bad and the ‘Oh, wait, you don’t want to be with me unless I’m stealing shit?’ It was all very fiery. They argued and had sex. Had sex and then argued. Sometimes all they did was argue. Lauren would throw expensive ceramic at him and he’d call her a spoiled princess and much worse.  
  
“You were,” Lauren say sadly. “But I married you because I loved you…even though I knew I wasn’t fully yours. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, it’s Mimi. She’s missing you.” Jensen bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. Lauren is so transparent. Her grandmother, Mimi, might very well be missing him but the old woman is a spitfire and saucy minx to boot. She wouldn’t let Jensen’s disappearance get her down. Hell, this is the same woman who drinks gin and tonics for breakfast. This is all about Lauren hoping that they can meet up and fall into each other’s arms like they did last time; an encounter that he’s regretted ever since.  
  
“You just want me back in LA, Lauren,” Jensen says. “And I get it. We do need to talk. But before that I need you to be honest with me. Did you steal the painting?”  
  
Lauren hums under her breath quietly. “What painting, Jensen? What would I know about stealing a painting?” She sounds sincere enough that he can’t doubt what she’s saying to him.  
  
“I believe you,” Jensen replies, instantly cringing when he realises that was the wrong thing to say.  
  
“Fuck you, Jensen,” Lauren spits out. “I was going to tell you…you know what? Never mind. Run along to your precious Jared and get your happily ever after. I hope you choke on it.” The line cuts off abruptly, leaving Jensen curious and wincing as his headache picks up from a dull throb and goes straight to stabbing pain.  
  
The pain only gets worse when he walks into his apartment and stumbles across Jared curled up on the couch watching some reality cooking show. Jensen doesn’t bother to greet him, just heads straight to his room and flops down face first onto his bed. Suddenly he feels drained, more so than just because of his sleep deprivation. He’s no closer to finding out who stole the painting and things are tense with the only people he cares about.  
  
His life is a fucking mess and for the first time he doesn’t know how to con or trick his way out of this.

 

 

  
Eventually, Jensen decides against telling Jared the full truth about the cemetery because it was kind of fucked up and weird even for a guy like him. He’s not sure if it was a veiled threat about the painting, Lauren, his life or all three. Either way, it’s all connected to him being back in New York and him attending the gallery opening. So, he decides to meet with Chris to try to go through what exactly happened that night. Before that though, he has to dodge Jared who’s suddenly speaking to him again.  
  
“So, where have you been for the past day?” Jared asks, from where he’s sipping at his orange juice and reading the Times, his accusing eyes planted firmly in Jensen’s direction. He almost doesn’t want to answer because Jared  _was,_  or is, right, Jensen is kind of keeping him here; while it seemed like a good idea at the time, going from being in each other’s space occasionally to being in it all of the time is a little overwhelming. Like right now, when Jensen’s dealing with the after effects of his tension headache. Does he want to go three verbal rounds with Jared over his toast and coffee? Correct answer gets a freaking prize. Wrong answer gets a prize too because part of him  _does_  want to do that, but he’s tired of arguing and needlessly defending himself.  
  
“Chasing down that address you gave me,” he answers, when the silence begins to grow uncomfortable. “It was a bust. We should probably focus on the gallery itself. The real thief might just be trying to throw us off, so I’m going to try and get a hold of any security footage from the gallery opening.” It’s sort of a trick response, given that he’s already told Jared that the footage was a bust. Of course, he hasn’t actually reviewed the footage of surrounding areas, but that’s another factor he plans on keeping to himself.  
  
Jensen’s not going to lie: he’s a master of mind games and trickery. If he wants to find out something, he will, no matter how long it takes, and he will get the truth. The thing about the truth is that it has many shades, many faces and as ridiculous as it sounds, it has enemies. It’s a force to be reckoned with, something to be feared and cherished. It’s a load bearing column and if it’s chipped at it long enough, it’ll come out. If it’s smashed with a wrecking ball, it’ll come out. Jensen knows as much about telling the truth as he does lying, and he knows Jared.  
  
He knows that if it ever came down to it, Jared’s going to be right there on that list of enemies because while they might have some deep, romantic connection, they also have all of these crazy messed up emotions. There’s a lot of broken trust, a lot of miscommunication and Jensen’s never really trusted anyone entirely. Never. He’s never really needed to. What usually mattered was people trusting  _him_.  
  
“The footage was a bust, remember?” Jared says with a confused expression. “I guess Katie forgot to get the security company to set everything up properly.”  
  
“Hmm,” Jensen makes an agreeable noise and acts like he’s suddenly no longer interested in the topic. He makes a show of reading a message on his phone and downing the rest of his coffee before he looks back up at Jared.  
  
“I was thinking of sending my mom some flowers,” he informs Jared. “I’m not sure what kind to get though. Maybe yellow tulips? What do you think about those?” Jared stares back at him with a raised eyebrow, as if Jensen’s a crazy person. Jensen steels himself and waits for the response because that’s what will tell him. Not a facial expression, or the light of Jared’s eyes but the cadence of his voice.  
  
Jared snorts breathily. “I might have wanted to be an artist once upon a time but I know nothing about flowers. In fact, since when did you care? You normally just order a bunch of roses and get the florist to write some generic message.” Jensen laughs back, inwardly wincing when it falls flat. The slight smile on Jared’s face falls, leaving them sitting in awkward silence once again. After a few minutes, Jensen stands and goes to grab his jacket from the hallway.  
  
“I’m going to go and meet Chris,” he tells Jared. “Do you, uh, have plans for today?”  
  
Jared shrugs. “I think I’m meeting with your lawyer. The  _real_  one. Just routine stuff. I think they’re going to tell me that I’m officially off the hook! Yay, right?!” Jensen blinks owlishly. Chris must have set Jared up with Rhodes, his lawyer, because truth be told, he hasn’t really been thinking about the legal side of things. From what Tom told him, there was barely a case against Jared. In fact, he made it pretty clear what would happen if they actually charged Jared. Jared might not want to report Tom for the messed up crap that he pulled, but Jensen will if he has to. It looks like he doesn’t, though, and he has to wonder at the timing of it all. Tom might think he’s in love with Jensen or whatever, but not even he would continue to jeopardise his job just to get some action, right?  
  
“Uh, y-yeah,” he stammers, uncharacteristically, when he realises that Jared’s waiting for a response. “That’s awesome. And, Jared, look, I’m really sorry about going behind your back to pay off your mom’s bills and mentioning the article to her. It was wrong of me and I had no place. Whatever drama we have stays between us, always. Remember we promised each other that? And I broke it and I shouldn’t have.” Jensen’s not really an apology kind of person. It’s douchey and egotistical but a lot of the time, he’s not sorry for the things he does. Or maybe he tells himself that he isn’t and uses that to justify being a jerk, whatever. It’s an ingrained part of him at this point and he can’t go back and find every single person he’s wronged and apologise, so maybe Jared will have to do. It’s not like he really cares about anybody else that much.  
  
After he says his goodbyes to Jared and leaves the apartment, Jensen collapses against the cold concrete wall by the elevator and wonders. He thinks about yellow tulips, Jared and Lauren and wonders what the crushing sensation is in his chest. Regret, love, self-hatred...  
  
Definitely regret.  
  
Yellow tulips mean love, happiness and fucking sunshine, the true symbol of his sham of a marriage He knows the meaning behind every flower he’s ever gotten his mom, and the meaning behind the rose he gave Jared the year before he had to skip town. At the time, it was supposed to be a kind gesture- something to cheer his best friend up when yet another loser decided to miss out on the best thing that ever happened to them. However, in a lot of ways, that he bought the damn rose at all kind of tells Jensen just when this love thing really started and yet, he went ahead and married Lauren anyway.  
  
For all of his bullshit about truths and lies, he has a hell of a hard time keeping the lines vivid when it comes to himself.

 

 

 

# Part Five

  
  
Jared gets dressed and makes his way to  _Cassidy Clarity_  a few hours after Jensen leaves, their strange conversation still playing on his mind. He’s due to see Kim Rhodes, the lawyer, around lunchtime, so he stops over at the gallery to see about starting work again. There’s only so much he can do in an apartment that reminds him of Jensen everywhere he turns. Quite why he hasn’t just packed up his shit and gone to stay with Chad is beyond him either. It’s not like he and Jensen are on the best of terms. Jensen’s still trying too hard and Jared’s…pondering, wondering if Jensen is really sincere. He thinks about Lauren a lot and that whole situation. What’s to say that Jensen wouldn’t up and walk out on him because he didn’t agree with something he chose to do?  
  
“Oh, Jared, thank god,” Katie says when she sees him standing in the lobby. “Things have been going terribly!” Considering that she calls him at least once a day to ask him some inane question, he’s not surprised. Plus  _he_ is supposed to be in charge of the day-to-day operations and the gallery opening wasn’t that long ago.  
  
Jared raises a brow. “How bad can things be going after a week?” Aldis rounds past the corner then and snorts when he catches the tail end of Jared’s words.  
  
“Well, we did  _lose_ an eighty million dollar painting,” he says. “And while that’s a big draw customer-wise – I know, ironic, right? - the whole drama with Blake Lively hasn’t helped us much.” Jared starts to wish that he’d bypassed the gallery and gone straight to the lawyer’s office. Going stir crazy at Jensen’s apartment suddenly seems a whole lot better than running around after Katie.  
  
“What happened with Blake Lively?” Jared asks warily. “Did it make TMZ?”  
  
Katie groans loudly and pushes her blonde bangs out of her eyes. “Worse. We made her stupid website. You know, the one where she pretends she’s all worldly and shit and tries to get you to buy a candle worth two thousand dollars.”  
  
Aldis does a double take and coughs wildly. “They sell candles worth that much? Y’all are crazy. No candle is worth that much.”  
  
“Well, I do have a butterscotch candle that I spent three thousand on but that’s not the point.” Katie replies. “She’s been badmouthing the gallery and we’ve barely gotten anyone in here the past two nights. It’s like Ghost Town but with homeless people who I took pity on and let in just so this place wouldn’t seem empty.”  
  
“She made me buy chinos and cashmere sweaters for all of them too,” Aldis gripes. “This is fast becoming the one of the weirdest jobs I’ve ever had. I’m all for giving to the poor, but Katie doesn’t see anything wrong with what transpired. She thinks she was doing her bit for the community”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Jared says. He’s not even going to comment on the homeless people thing.  
  
“Guys!” Katie shrieks once she’s finished glaring at Aldis. “Please take this seriously or neither of you will have jobs. Look, Jared, I know that you’re not on best terms with Jensen but I need him to come here and generate some buzz. Maybe we can put out some fake information about him stealing the painting?”  
  
“You do realise that there’s a good chance that someone linked to Jensen  _actually_  stole the painting?” Aldis says incredulously. “You might not want to poke the bear, Katie. The insurance company doesn’t even want to pay out anything.”  
  
Katie sighs. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? A missing painting is something that none of us can control but as you know, someone is taking care of it.” She sound so serious for once that Jared almost thinks she’s swapped bodies with someone else. He witnesses a strange shared look between Katie and Aldis but it’s so brief that he may just be seeing things.  
  
Aldis scoffs and takes a step closer. “Oh, really? How about making sure the security cameras are on next time?”  
  
“I did!” Katie yells. “I checked several times. What about you? Instead of helping Jared, you just sat behind your computer. Some help you are.”  
  
“I’m an  _accountant_ , Katie,” Aldis snaps. “I’m not here to run around after you and police those silly college kids who’ve been stealing alcohol behind your back.”  
  
“What?” Katie says. “But…none of the interns I’ve hired are over twenty-one. Fuck. Why are you just telling me about this now? Do you want Blake Lively to completely  _destroy_ us on her website?”  
  
“I read her post, it was quite complimentary,” Aldis shoots back. “You’re just being a drama queen. It’s not your fault that people read the post and automatically decided that anything with her seal of approval is pure garbage.” Katie starts to argue about how the post is  _passive aggressively nice,_ so when Jared’s phone buzzes in his pocket, he takes the opportunity to escape. Clearly tensions have been running hot in his absence, but he’s not in the mood to defuse anything right now. Especially when Katie is so high-strung. He knows from his days at  _Gagosian_  that she’s the queen of epic tantrums. The only reason she wasn’t fired back then was because of her very rich connections and that fact that she was great at her job when she was actually focused.  
  
He doesn’t bother to check the caller I.D. before he picks up, but he’s not surprised to hear that it’s Jensen.  
  
“Jared, hi, it’s Jensen,” Jensen says, rather redundantly. There’s a loud thud in the background and Jared raises an eyebrow. It doesn’t sound like Jensen is at Chris’ apartment. “Are you busy?”  
  
“Why?” Jared asks suspiciously. He can tell from the timbre of Jensen’s voice that he’s either caught up in a bad situation or caught up in an even worse situation. Either way, it doesn’t sound good.  
  
“I’m sort of tied up at the moment,” Jensen says with a dry laugh. “I need a favour.”  


 

 

  
  
It turns out that Jensen is literally tied up.  
  
It’s an hour later when Jared finds himself navigating through a butcher's shop. There’s a small bag burning a hole into his inner pocket while the smell of raw meat fills his nostrils. He knocks once when he reaches the room at the back, and opens it when there’s no response. A series of rapid clicks greet him and he looks up to see four people pointing guns at him while Jensen dangles from a metal bar in the middle of the room. His wrists are tied with plastic wire and he’s flanked by what looks like two dead, gutless cows on either side of him. Jared’s heart starts beating rapidly in his chest as he takes everything in.  _So many guns_  and  _God, I’m never going to be able to eat steak again_. He’s not sure how Jensen hasn’t thrown up all over himself several times, though looking at his expensively put together outfit, it’s a good thing that he hasn’t.  
  
“Is this the kid?” A tall, slightly round man steps forward but directs his question at Jensen who only nods wearily. The man turns to look at Jared. “I’m Frankie.”  
  
“Uh, hi, Frankie,” Jared stammers nervously. “You mind telling your buddies to uh, put the guns down?” Frankie eyes him slowly before gesturing at his men. There are more clicks before the guns are lowered and Jared lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. What the fuck has Jensen gotten himself into this time? The phone call he got went something along the line of ‘ _these angry men are about to kill me unless I pay them what I owe them_ ’, which Jared didn’t necessarily believe but went along with because the alternative wasn’t any better and he didn’t want any blood on his hands.  
  
That Jensen really does have a bunch of angry men waiting kill him doesn’t surprise Jared as much as it should.

 

 

  
“Jared!” Jensen’s strained voice pulls Jared out of his reverie. “Frankie was just asking if you had the money.” Jared blinks. Oh. Oh  _right_ , the money! Another interesting facet of their conversation. Jensen asked him to locate his gym locker – which has a combination of 190782 ( _his_  birthday) just to fuck with Jared’s mind a little bit more – where he stashed a cool twenty grand, like it was nothing. It probably is nothing to Jensen given how much he’s stolen over the years and—  
  
“ _Jared_.” Oh  _right,_ the money! He reaches into his pocket and hurriedly pulls out the wrapped bag. He hands it to Frankie who wastes no time in ripping it open, extracting the two rolls, unwrapping them and inspecting the fresh bills. He makes a big deal of counting it, until he stops, apparently satisfied that it’s all there. Frankie turns to Jensen and laughs manically. Jared can’t help rearing backwards suddenly, startled by the gruff, harsh noise. Where does Jensen  _find_  these people?  
  
“Next time, don’t leave the city without thinking of your Uncle Frankie, okay?” he says, before he heads over towards the door, pushing past Jared as he does so. “To think I took a bullet in the ass for this punk.” Jared’s eyes widen automatically at  _that_  as Frankie’s goons trail out after him without sparing Jensen a second glance. The door slams shut behind them, leaving Jared looking on at Jensen’s prone form. He shakes his head, unable to hide his amusement.  
  
“You know I ought to leave you tied up there,” he says. Jensen neglected to mention that Frankie and his fucking buddies would have  _guns_. “Thanks for the heads up re: the guns.”  
  
Jensen sighs heavily. “They told me to leave that particular fact out. They might think this plastic wire is a good way to tie someone up but they’re not entirely stupid.” With that Jensen lets his hands go and he slips of the pole, landing on his feet with a stumble.  
  
Jared stares at him. “Okay, why didn’t you just do that before? You let them point their guns at me! You could have gotten me shot.” Jensen shakes his head for a second too long, as if he’s dazed slightly.  
  
“I would never  _let_  anyone do that to you,” Jensen replies as he rubs at the angry red marks on his wrists. “I needed you to provide a distraction so I could get free in case things went south. They didn’t, so I didn’t budge. I’m sorry.” Jared rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother to ask what Jensen is apologising for. Just hearing the word from him is an alien concept. That it seems to be Jensen’s new favourite word is an inner dilemma for another time.  
  
“Why the hell were you here in the first place?” he asks, only noticing just how cold it is in the room. He looks around again, actually takes everything in this time, and realises that they’re in a walk-in freezer. It doesn’t seem to be on, however, because the smell of rotting meat is strong and the room isn’t especially cold. He shudders at the mere thought of people buying anything from this place. He beckons towards the door and Jensen follows him, taking the way once they reach the hallway. They leave through the back door, where they receive a dirty glare from some guy smoking in the small courtyard area. Jared pointedly looks ahead, scared that someone else with a gun will jump out of them if they don’t leave the property immediately.  
  
“Frankie knows a couple of guys that fence paintings,” Jensen says once they hit the street. “I was asking him about it and I’d kind of forgotten about the whole bullet in the ass thing. He was my security detail back when I uh, dealt with that [À Travers les Styles Italian crystal chandelier](http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2010/a-travers-les-styles-a-private-collection-of-silver-paintings-and-furniture-pf1039/lot.49.html).” Jared almost laughs at Jensen not outright bragging about stealing something but he stops himself. Even though they’ve only been around each other for a week or so, he’s starting to see that Jensen really has changed, if only a little bit. The cockiness has receded a little – only a little, because the Lexus is sort of obnoxious – and he seems softer, more self-conscious, and as much as Jared’s always wished Jensen had some humility, part of him misses that smug guy who dressed in ripped shirts and ratty jeans who painted forgeries. This Jensen is almost too refined, too  _polished,_  and Jared’s not sure that he likes it all that much.  
  
Nevertheless, there’s no denying that Jensen does seem to be willing to go above and beyond to help clear Jared’s name – and maybe also prove that he’s changed but the former is what means the most right now. It’s what’s making Jared’s heart sing like a fucking canary and it’s what will make him hate himself a little later on, when he’s trying to sleep and is consumed with the same thoughts from the past two years –  _Jensen, Jensen, Jensen_ , like he’s some stupid teenage girl obsessed with Hollywood’s latest heartthrob.  
  
“Let me see your hands,” he says when he notices Jensen rubbing at them for the umpteenth time. There are angry red marks and shallow cuts from where the plastic wire dug into the skin but it doesn’t look too bad. Jared can’t help using the pad of his thumb to trace the marks and there’s a slightly charged moment when Jensen sucks in a breath and looks at him. The irony of the situation isn’t lost on him as he recalls how tenderly Jensen had taken care of  _his_ hands the other night. It’s moments like this that make him wonder - moments like this when he thinks that no matter what happens, they’ll always be there for each other. Even if they don’t show up at the right time or if they don’t agree with each other, they’ll always be there.  
  
After that thought, Jared looks finds that he can’t maintain eye contact for long. Somehow,  _he_ feels like the fraud and suddenly all of this is too much. He drops Jensen’s hands and falls back, realising that he has no idea where they’re even going.  
  
“So…” he says, drawing out the word to let Jensen know that they’re moving on from the awkward, tense moment. “What was that about Frankie catching a bullet in the  _ass_?” Jensen grins suddenly, all smug and cocky and Jared looks to the sky and thinks  _thank God._

 

 

  


  
Jensen’s phone is ringing as they enter the apartment and Jared realises that he missed his meeting with Rhodes. He shrugs it off, figuring that he’ll call her tomorrow. He’s much more interested in who it is that keeps calling Jensen every fifteen minutes.  
  
“Lauren,” Jensen mutters as if he’s reading Jared’s mind. Jared nods at him and then he realises that the apartment floor is littered with square shapes of paper. He turns to ask Jensen if this was his doing and catches him with the same look of confusion on his face. Jared leans that and picks up one of the loose papers. It’s a colour printout of  _Turquoise Marilyn_  and there and several more littered all across the floor. Jensen doesn’t look too surprised when he picks up one for himself, his eyes remaining expressionless as his face betrays no emotion.  
  
“What is this?” Jared asks once it becomes clear that Jensen has nothing to say. “Did someone break into the apartment?”  
  
“I got an alert from the security company,” Jensen admits. “But they didn’t enter anywhere important so don’t worry. It’s just someone messing with me, that’s all.” He doesn’t sound overly concerned but Jared’s known Jensen long enough to detect the strain in his voice.  
  
“Is it…Lauren?” Jared asks, knowing that Jensen and his  _wife_  are still a sore point, but this is what best friends do. They talk about the other’s issues even if it’s emotionally crippling and makes them want to punch something.  
  
Jensen rolls his eyes as he goes over to the couch and sinks down onto it, his eyes closing briefly as he inhales and exhales deeply. “It’s not her. At least I don’t think it is. I mean, she’s pissed at me but she wouldn’t do all of this.”  
  
“All of this?” Jared echoes. “Has something else happened?” Jensen opens his eyes long enough to give him an odd look.  
  
“No,” he says, but again, Jared knows him well enough to know that he’s lying. Lying is Jensen’s speciality after all. “She’s just upset about everything, and she has everything right to be, but she would never do anything like this. I mean, she could be difficult, but I don’t think she’d try to play mind games with me.”  
  
Jared hesitates for a second before he joins Jensen on the couch. “Are you sure? I mean, she did dump you because you didn’t want to be a thief anymore.”  
  
“No, I  _left_  her because I realised I wasn’t in love with her anymore,” Jensen replies. “If I was in the first place and actually—can we just drop this? It’s been a long day.”  
  
Jared shrugs. If Jensen doesn’t want to talk about it, then that’s that. Though it doesn’t change the fact that Jared’s curious about it – especially now that Jensen no longer wants to talk about it. It feels like Lauren was all he heard about when Jensen first got back into town. Jared’s own phone buzzes while Jensen is tapping away at his, and he looks down to see yet another text from Katie that says ‘ _Well?_ ’  
  
He looks across at Jensen and says, “Well, don’t get too comfy because your day is about to get even longer.”  
  
He did Jensen a favour and now it’s time for Jensen to do him one.

 

 

  


  
  
“Really?” Jensen says, hours later when they’re at  _Cassidy Clarity,_  ignoring the swarm of people watching Jensen from the side of the gallery. “Three people have asked me how I stole  _Turquoise Marilyn_  – they think the whole thing was a publicity stunt for the gallery opening.”  
  
Jared laughs softly. “Well, it could be worse. You could be on the FBI’s actual list of suspects.” He regrets saying it right away because the mood changes instantly and Jensen stiffens. Ever since their conversation at the apartment, Jensen has been withdrawn and quiet, and while it’s not Jared’s fault, he can’t help but feel bad. Jensen might not want to talk about Lauren but it’s obvious that it’s bothering him. There’s always going to be a part of Jared that actually cares when Jensen’s upset.  
  
“Speaking of that, there was an interesting development right before we came here,” Jensen says, perking up slightly. “I managed to track down the courier who actually delivered the painting and they finally called me back this morning when I was leaving Chris’ place.”  
  
Jared swallows, hands suddenly warm and clammy. He wipes them down his pants leg and asks, “Oh, yeah? What did he say?” He busies himself with wiping down the clean glasses and restacking them. Tending the bar definitely wasn’t in his job description but he’s starting to see that Katie just spun him a line and he was desperate enough to fall for it. Even the interns are smart enough not to come back after a day or so.  
  
Jensen grins. “ _She_. She said that all she did was deliver a list. She wasn’t asked to deliver a package. And another interesting fact? The address was completely different to that place we scoped out. The parking lot.” Jensen takes a sip of his scotch as he finishes and Jared’s left standing there, wishing that someone would come and order a million drinks just so he doesn’t have to finish this conversation.  
  
“Makes sense,” he answers stupidly. “Who gets something delivered to a parking lot?” Jensen sets his glass down on the bar.  
  
“It was a diversionary move, designed to throw everyone off,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “Not everyone has five grand on hand to bribe a courier into telling them what happened.” Jared sets down the dishrag he’s holding and mixes up a martini for a customer before he even touches that comment.  
  
He raises an eyebrow as he turns back to Jensen who’s watching his hands oddly. “You paid her  _five grand_?” He can tell that he sounds shocked and appalled, but it  _is_  a lot of money. Jensen actually blushes slightly as he shrugs once more and tugs at the collar of his shirt.  
  
“If I can clear your name then none of the money will matter,” he says quietly. “Besides, it’s not like I earned it right? Might as well go to someone who actually needs it.” The unspoken  _I did it for you_ hangs in the air and Jared doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t need to, because a tall, dark-skinned man suddenly approaches Jensen with something that Jared can only describe as pure rage in his eyes. Jensen doesn’t look ruffled as he sips at his scotch once again. The tension in the air is palpable and Jared only hopes things don’t get out of hand.  
  
“Hey, Ackles, don’t act like you don’t see me,” the man says and Jared thinks he recognises him as some kind of former NBA player or something similar.  
  
“Hello, Derrick,” Jensen replies, finally turning to meet the man’s gaze head on. Jared refrains from snapping his fingers as the name clicks into place. Derrick Matthews, former point guard for the Nets or some other team. Jared’s not particularly well-versed in basketball. Or most sports - truthfully, he’s more of a tennis guy. He still remembers Djokovic winning the US Open in 2011 fondly, mostly because Jensen managed to score them tickets somehow. Like always, he never asked.  
  
“Where’s the fifty thousand that you conned me out of?” Derrick steps forward and Jared blinks and tries to look around for security. He doesn’t spot them but he does spot Aldis, still perched on his usual seat at the back, with his laptop in front of him.  
  
Jensen sighs heavily. “Look, I’m sorry about the painting okay. I didn’t kn---“  
  
Derrick growls--actually growls--and Jensen puts his hands up in defeat. “Okay,  _fine_. I knew it was a fake and I sold it to you anyway. Is that what you want to hear?” Derrick laughs in disbelief, even though he quite clearly knew the painting was fake. Jared supposes that the man is just at that hysterical point of anger where laughing is the next logical step.  
  
“How’d you even get a fake that good?” Derrick asks, voice suddenly stripped of the anger that’s been lacing it. Jared tries to signal to Jensen not to answer because he doesn’t have a good feeling about this. It reminds him of how his mom’s voice took on a whole other tone when she was trying to drag the truth out of him. He always fell for it too. Jensen, however, does what he wants, as always. He returns Jared’s look with a simple ‘ _I’ve got this’_ expression and then grins.  
  
“Painted it myself,” he admits smugly. The next thing they all hear is the sound of Derrick’s fist connecting with Jensen’s face.

 

 

  
“You baited him on purpose,” Jared realises, when he’s dabbing Jensen’s bloody noise with a damp napkin. They’re in the back room with Jensen propped up on a table as Jared takes a look at him. After that first punch, Jared wasted no time in sliding over the bar and shoving Derrick back before the security guards showed up to escort him out.  
  
“Maybe,” Jensen says, wincing as Jared pulls his hand back and glares at him. “I just paid those other crooks twenty grand and I paid the courier – not even I have an unlimited supply of disposable cash sitting around. Plus that guy’s an asshole anyway – he’s wearing a fake Rolex - people selling him counterfeits is obviously a common occurrence.”  
  
Jared frowns. “That doesn’t make what you did okay, Jensen. You’ve got to know that.” He can tell that Jensen’s annoyed but he’s not surprised by the fact that he isn’t apologetic. This is the Jensen he knows. Or knew. Whatever.  
  
“I do know that,” Jensen admits. “But I also know that I can’t pay all of these people back what I owe them. I would be lying if I said I wanted to, Jared. You of all people remember why I started this in the first place. And yeah, maybe I am like my scumbag father, but maybe he had the right idea all along; he just wasn’t smart enough.” Jared wants to laugh. Jensen and his theories on his own intellect are always amusing, especially with the faux comparison with his imprisoned father. See, Jensen thinks that his own intelligence will save him from having to pay for his mistakes. He thinks that everything is in _his_  hands, despite Jared trying to tell him over and over that one day he’s going to mess with the wrong person.  
  
“Why can’t you pay them back?” Jared ponders, not even bothering to voice all of that other crap. It will only fall on deaf ears. “You’re married to a wealthy woman and you’re not exactly hurting for money, disposable or not? If you know that you’ve done wrong, retaining all of that money wouldn’t matter as much as doing the right thing.”  
  
Jensen stands then and fixes Jared with a hard look, one that Jared’s never seen directed at him before. He takes a step back, suddenly unsure of what direction their conversation is going in.  
  
“Jared, I love you and you’re my best friend – always will be, but seriously, you don’t know what went on with Lauren and I, so how about you keep your opinion on that to yourself?” Jared is taken aback at Jensen’s words, especially given the fact that Jensen interfered with  _his_  family and  _his_ life and supposed  _loves_ him, but wants him to ignore that fact that he’s very much  _married_. He looks at Jensen, looks him right in the eyes, takes the anger there and feels his own building up.  
  
“You can fuck right off,” Jared spits out. “You inserted yourself into  _my_  business, Jensen, don’t you forget that. If you didn’t want me to ask about Lauren, you shouldn’t have mentioned her. And I know you, remember? You never did like spoilt little rich girls past swindling them out of a shit ton of money – so don’t try and pass off your bullshit as truth. You have no morals whatsoever.” Jensen deflates then, anger blowing out the air passing through an empty drink carton in the middle of the street.  
  
“You’re right,” he says slowly, like he can’t quite believe it himself. “I have no morals – I was interested in Lauren because of her money and if there’s anyone I owe the truth it’s you but you said at the start that you didn’t want to hear about her.” Jared thinks for a minute and recalls saying something along those lines out of anger, but in truth, he’s curious about it now. Whether or not it’s jealousy he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s just that he’s confused that they broke up at all – she must have put a lot into getting Jensen to actually  _commit_  to her.  
  
“You want to know what happened. Fine, I’ll tell you,” Jensen says before Jared can reply.

 

# Part Six

Jensen doesn’t tell Jared anything, but just the offer alone is enough to placate him just like he knew it would. People are easy to manipulate. Once someone merely offers to show their hand, people think that there’s trust there, and ergo, they’re even easier to fool. Not that he’s trying to trick Jared; he just wants to put the  _Turquoise Marilyn_ mess behind them first, before Tom or his FBI cronies do something that neither one of them can undo. There’s something off about this situation – not the personal vendetta part, that’s par for the course. It’s why Jensen’s here at a car dealership just outside of town, patting his Lexus LFA fondly as he hands the keys over to the dealer.  
  
Derrick might have sprained his nose, but he’s not a bad guy just because he can’t see when he’s being spun a line; plus he’s got three kids and waning popularity – being out fifty grand probably hurt him and his family somehow. Jensen doesn’t want to be responsible for putting innocent kids through that, making them suffer through the kind of life that he did. Wearing the neighbour’s hand-me-downs and never being able to go on class trips, never being able to hang out with his friends because the shame of having someone else pay for him became too overbearing. He won’t have that on his conscience.  
  
Once the sale of the car is done, he calls a rental place and arranges to pick up one of their cars at a later time and then calls a cab to take him to Chris’ place. It’ll take a couple of hours and cost a fair amount but he did just get two hundred grand for his car – well below his price but enough for him to be able to start righting some wrongs.

 

 

  
“You want me to what?” Chris is pacing angrily as Jensen talks to him. “Jensen, look, we’re business partners and I know that you think you’re some kind of extraordinary thief but there are a million guys who can do what you do. A million.” Jensen understands Chris’ frustrations – he does, but insulting him isn’t going to make things any better.  
  
“That hasn’t stopped you from helping me all of these years,” he retorts. He leans back into Chris’ battered couch and wonders why his friend is still living in this tiny apartment with rundown furniture when he can afford a much nicer place.  
  
Chris laughs bitterly. “Yeah, well, we’re supposed to be a team. You should remember that. I’ve had your back for damn near twenty years. Since you were a stupid kid with daddy issues – I know you better than you know yourself - maybe it’s time for you to stop pretending.”  
  
Jensen swallows hard at the memories Chris’ words invoke. It’s hard to remember sometimes but he’s right--he has been there since the beginning when they were both desperate enough to turn to forging art. Back then it was smaller stuff, stupid things like portraits of people in five minutes. That scam was easy. Set up in a spot that attracted a lot of crowds, detect the people who lingered longer and sketch them as the day went by. Typically they’d be there long enough for Jensen to sketch them while Chris did the performance part. It wasn’t honest, but it was a far cry from the downright deception he graduated to. They could still go to sleep at night, content with the knowledge that they hadn’t potentially ruined someone’s life.  
  
“What am I pretending about?” he asks angrily. He’s frustrated and tired of Chris thinking that he can dictate what Jensen does. “That I don’t want out of this life?”  
  
Chris throws his hands in the air. “I can’t answer that for you, but I can tell you that the whole narrative you cooked up about Lauren is false. She didn’t react like that because she wanted you to go on deceiving people. She met you when you were a criminal and she loved you anyway. She was part of that life. The whole time you’ve been together, she’s heard about Jared, this guy who always gave you shit but you still look up to, and suddenly you want to leave and go back to NYC? How the hell did you think she was going to react?”  
  
“So you’re saying she…thought she’d get left behind?” Jensen asks tentatively. “Why didn’t she say anything to me? Hell, she keeps calling, but I never get this from her.”  
  
“Have you ever given her a chance?” The question is simple and the answer is the same, he didn’t give her chance. He didn’t really want to. So he happily accepted her initial reaction and automatically convinced himself that she was being unsupportive, that she didn’t love him, when maybe it’s the other way around. Chris is right; he can see why she would feel that way and, given how crazy Jared’s been making him, he probably never gave her all of himself.  
  
“No, I haven’t,” he answers. “And I get what you’re saying. A leopard can’t change its spots. I can’t undo all I’ve done by doing a million favours and giving away  _everything_  but…I can try. I can try to be a better person. So, can you get me the money or not?”  
  
Chris shakes his head angrily but gives Jensen a short nod eventually. Jensen turns to leave but stops when he sees the disappointment in his friend’s eye.  
  
“You know that I’ve got your back too, right?” he asks. “I just need you to trust me. Can you do that?”  
  
Chris’ silence is long, awkward and very telling. By the time he mutters something affirmative Jensen already knows that they’ll never be the same.

 

 

  
After dropping off Derrick’s money through his letterbox, Jensen drives his rental car to the address from the courier, the one where the list was delivered. He tried to look up the owner on the internet but could only find it listed on those sites that want you to pay a hundred dollars, and he wasn’t about to do that, so he has no idea what’s waiting for him behind the door. After he finds a parking space a few blocks away, he locates the street and walks down, looking closely for number twenty-two. He finds himself outside a semi-attached house. The cold breeze brushes past him and he tightens his jacket. He knocks and waits. It’s freezing out here.  
  
There’s a shuffling sound and the door swings open leaving Jensen face to face with a face he’ll never forget. Her name is Audrey O’Dea. That name is one that he will never forget. She was one of his first marks, the first one who had  _real_  money and not just a monthly pay check from her husband. Jensen was able to charm her quickly once she said that he reminded her of her grandson. Back then Audrey was wealthy, had access to all of the elite clubs and societies and a grand old house full of priceless heirlooms. Jensen wasn’t the reason she lost her money. That was down to the Ponzi scheme she got caught up in two years after he inflicted his damage, which wasn’t much--just a few valuable items and a flurry of unopened letters and ignored phone calls.  
  
Still, he could always tell how much she cared for him. That’s clearly not the case anymore because he can see the darkness in her eyes. There’s anger and hurt there and he actually feels  _bad_. How could he not? Audrey was nothing but sweet to him. While Jensen’s own mother looked at him in disappointment, Audrey actually seemed  _proud_  and that touched him. Much like Lauren’s grandmother, Mimi, who also seemed to see some good in him. Sometimes Jensen thinks he has an old soul; there’s always been this weariness, the everlasting tint of jadedness colouring him, and he does not think it’s normal. A fifteen year old isn’t supposed to be hustling in the street and pretending that his mother is a functioning alcoholic, they’re not supposed to skip school just to make ends meet when his mother loses her job, not supposed to hold her hair back while she vomits and then smile over his Fruit Loops the following morning and pretend that nothing happened. He’s not supposed to only see his father with the stale scent of prison washing over them. He’s not supposed to wake up one morning to find a letter saying that he’s not to come back again. That’s he got to take care of mom, make sure that nothing happens to her, that she’s always okay.  
  
A fifteen year old isn’t supposed to feel dead inside.  
  
“--Jensen Ackles,” Audrey says quite jovially. Jensen almost breathes a sigh of relief because he’s not sure where  _those_  thoughts came from. All of the repressed memories and stupid emotions he tries too hard to push down. He shakes his head gently and turns his undivided attention to Audrey. Her hair’s a little greyer, the lines around her eyes more defined but they are still as sharp as they always were. “You son of a bitch.” The words sound so odd and crass coming from her that he almost laughs. Not that any of this is funny. If there’s one person his conscience actually feels real, genuine sympathy for, it’s Audrey.  
  
“Audrey…I’m sorry,” Jensen says, slightly taken back. “I was in the neighbourhood and—“  
  
Audrey disappears briefly before he can finish and he hovers, mid-sentence. He waits for her to come back, not wanting to breach her space uninvited. It’s no more than a minute when she returns with a scrap of paper in his hand.  
  
“Here,” she says, handing it over. “In future, tell your friends that I’m too old to partake in these games.” The door is slammed in his face before he can utter a response, and he’s left staring at the pine coloured door, wondering what the hell just happened. The chill seeps into his bones once more, and he steps away from the house and walks back the way he came. He stops briefly and looks down at the note. It reads:  _'You can have me but cannot hold me, gain me and quickly lose me. If treated with care I can be great?’_  He rolls his eyes because whoever's behind this clearly thinks they're a lot smarter than he is. He knows that answer to the riddle - friend, love, trust - hell freaking  _oxygen_. His instinct tells him that this asshole wants him to know that it's personal, as if the whole graveyard debacle didn't make that clear.  
  
The strange thing is that only three people in his life know about Audrey. Of course they may have passed the information on, but…the buck stops with them. He files that piece of information away for later and makes his way home.

 

 

  


  
By the time Jensen gets home, Jared's there, watching the evening news alongside a very awkward-looking Chris. Jensen's almost forgotten their conversation from earlier, but seeing both of them only serves as a reminder. Chris must be here to follow up on their conversation - or  _argument_  - this morning. Jensen, like many professionals, has that one job - the one that went off perfectly without a hitch. Mostly it was because he used Jared's contacts to get him into a house, and then kind of inadvertently dragged him along, but whatever. He bagged himself a pink diamond worth thirty million dollars, if not more now. Chris' job is usually to release funds when Jensen needs them and right now, he's ready to cash out on the diamond. The general rule is that Chris gets thirty percent of whatever their items sell for, and Jensen gets the rest, minus a cut for anyone else involved. They've clashed over it in the past but usually it isn't an issue, so he trusts that Chris will get him the best deal possible on it.  
  
“Hey, Jared, Chris,” he calls as he goes back to the hallway and hangs up his jacket. “Man, rental cars are not what they used to be. Can you believe that they gave me a  _Prius_?”  
  
Jared cranes his neck to eye Jensen suspiciously. “What happened to your Lexus?” He sounds more bemused than  _curious_  but something about his gaze is unnerving. Jensen shrugs and tells himself that he’s being stupid. He can trust Jared, he knows that he can.  
  
“He sold it,” Chris chimes in. “Idiot’s convinced that you’ll fall right into his arms if he tries to pay back everyone he owes.” Jensen blushes because that’s not it at all. Chris might think he knows all there is to know, but there’s a reason why Jensen’s the brains of their operation.  
  
“You’re kidding, right?” Jared says in disbelief. “Have you forgotten about your playtime with the two dead cows? It’s not just bored housewives and pretty young things that you stole from. That much is obvious. Don’t be an idiot, Jensen.” Jensen sighs and turns to face Chris with a steely glare.  
  
“Can I talk to you outside, Chris?” he asks coldly. From the way Chris’ smirk falls off his face, he seems to know that he’s overstepped the mark. He follows Jensen silently, not saying anything until they reach the door.  
  
“I shouldn’t have said that, I know,” Chris says before Jensen can put in his two cents. “I just don’t get why you’d be willing to give up so much for someone who isn’t even interested.” Here’s the thing: Chris helped Jensen out when he was in a tight spot, and when Jensen got his act together, he helped Chris by keeping him around when he didn’t need to. And yeah, they’re friends, but Jensen is fucking sick of Chris judging every single thing he does. However, he’s not going to let any cracks show. He’s just going to breathe easy. In and out. In and out.  
  
“How much are we looking at for the diamond?” he asks instead. He just wants to get this over and done with so he can go to bed and preferably sleep for the next two days.  
  
“Zilch,” Chris says with such gusto that Jensen initially think he’s joking. It takes him a good minute to realise just what this means.  
  
“Are you saying that…the diamond we have is fake?” Chris shrugs and jerks his hand towards the door.  
  
“Maybe your boyfriend has something do with it. He was there that night.”  
  
Jensen snaps. “Yeah, because  _you_ sent him! Chris, I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me, I will end you. I don’t care how long we’ve known each other. The yellow tulips at the graveside - that was you right? Who else could have known about them but you?” Chris is shaking his head before Jensen’s done talking.  
  
“I have  _no_  idea what you’re talking about, Jensen,” he says. “As for the diamond well, it’s been in the same place ever since. There’s no way it could have been switched out unless it was done before it left that house.” Jensen’s head is pounding and he just – he can’t  _deal_. If Chris is saying that  _Jared_ is involved then…it just, it can’t be. Chris is lying for whatever reason and he doesn’t have the faintest idea why.  
  
“I can’t deal with this right now,” he informs Chris. “Just go. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll  _talk_.” Chris doesn’t argue, just walks away silently, leaving Jensen standing there on his own, a lone figure in the brightly lit area outside the apartment.  
  
Jared’s voice filters through as Jensen re-enters but all he catches is, “…something isn’t right.” Jared spots him and makes a big deal of mouthing ‘ _It’s my mom_ ’, even though it’s obvious that it isn’t. For once Jensen doesn’t care. There’s no flare of jealousy, no sting of rejection. He’s just tired. So he heads upstairs, locks his door with the new coded panel he’d installed after the  _real thief_  went printer crazy and broke into the apartment.

 

 

  


  
Sometime later, a knock on the door startles Jensen from his fuzzy sleep and he groans inwardly. For a second he wishes he was back in Los Angeles, lying on the beach, shaded from the sun and feeling completely relaxed. Even if it’s just for a minute. Another knock sounds and he grabs his second pillow and shoves it over his head. There’s a beat of silence and then the door creaks open.  
  
“Jensen? It’s…uh, the FBI and they want to speak to you.” Jared’s voice sounds in the room and Jensen extricates himself from his covers.  
  
He sighs. “Tell them I’m sleeping.” Jared rolls his eyes and lets the door shut. He looks on quietly for a few seconds before he says,  
  
“Hell, maybe, Tom’ll buy that excuse but Agent Harris won’t.” Jensen groans, aloud this time; Agent Danneel Harris is the proverbial pain in his ass. There’s one thing that a thief should always fear – getting caught. Sure, books, movies and other thieves will tell you differently, but Jensen can bet a million dollars that the best thieves have a back-up plan, back-up of back-up plans and a back-up plan in case that goes wrong. Each heist is a maze with several exits and hidden crevices. Jensen always made sure to keep that in mind. Of course, he had more reason to when his name started being touted around, when the referrals grew.  
  
Criminals might be a tight knit band but they’re still criminals; they’re liars, cheats, scumbags, and all it took was one asshole to give a name to the feds and heat was coming Jensen’s way. At first it was both of them, Agents Welling and Harris. They would turn up at specific times, they’d watch him and that kind of bullshit can make a guy jumpy. Eventually one thing led to another and Jensen used the fact that Tom was attracted to him to make sure that anything incriminating ended up dead and buried. He feels a little bit bad about it now, but at the time, it was painstakingly easy to turn up at Tom’s office, fuck him over his desk and somehow find any information that he needed to make disappear. What was it he always said? People were too trusting, and that wasn’t off limits to the feds.  
  
However, when Agent Harris caught wind of what he was doing she threatened him, threatened  _Jared,_ and Jensen had no choice but to leave town. He’s not sure if she had anything to do with the article itself, but he knows who the infamous source was. Jensen also knows that being back in New York City is dangerous. He knows that if he makes one wrong move, Agent Harris will  _bury_  him.  
  
“I’ll be down in a second.” Jared nods and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. Jensen’s phone buzzes in his jeans pocket and he realises that he’s still wearing his clothes from the morning. He groans once more as he retrieve his phone and sees that it’s Chris calling.  
  
“The feds are three minutes away from getting a warrant to search your place.” Chris gets straight to the point, his tone stern and blunt. Jensen exhales deeply. Surprise, surprise. “Do you need me to come over?”  
  
The apartment is clean. It was the second that he broke Jared’s lease. There’s no way on Earth that Jensen was going to let Jared get caught up in his mess (well, any more than he is already) once he moved in him here and wow, he’s only just realising what a dick move  _that_  was. Kind of like the story his mom tells him about how his dad up and sold the house one day, without letting her know, for some dream job in the country that didn’t work out and well – the rest is history.  
  
“Uh, no,” he says quickly, suddenly realising that Chris is still on the phone. “The place is clean, don’t worry.”  
  
Chris clears his throat. “Are you sure? I mean, what about the tulips? This seems personal, man. What if someone planted something?”  
  
“No one has been to this place except you and Jared and th—anyway, Jared wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that.” Jensen argues, ignoring the bad feeling rising in his stomach. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this but he’s sure that he apartment really is clean. He manages to get Chris off the phone, and changes quickly into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. For some reason, he can’t quite bring himself to go out there and put on his cocky thief persona and go tit for tat with Agent Harris. Not today.  
  
There’s almost a palpable sense of disappointment when he eventually shuffles into the living room. Tom and Agent Harris are sitting on the couch, with their coffees placed beside them on the table. Jared’s sitting in the adjacent armchair, staring at Jensen with open confusion on his face. Even Tom looks a little shell-shocked. Agent Harris just looks snide and angry, but that’s usually her default expression when it comes to Jensen.  
  
“What happened? You didn’t feel like dazzling us all with your stolen designer wear today?” she says, permanent smirk already in place. Jensen rolls his eyes and walks around, before dropping down onto the floor on the other side of the table. Jared’s eyes widen, and there’s a question in them that he doesn’t really want to answer but he shakes his head anyway.  
  
“So, I’m here, spit it out, Harris,” he says, a little overdramatically but, hell, he’s tired. He’s fucking tired of all of this. “Did Tom tell you about our little late night meal? It’s such a shame that you couldn’t make it. We had a  _whale_  of a time.” Jensen regrets saying that when Jared makes a pained noise then flushes red, clearly embarrassed by his reaction. Tom doesn’t even flinch, which isn’t really a surprise. There was nothing pleasant about the meal they ‘shared’, and given today’s earlier events, Jensen’s starting to really, really think that coming back here was a huge mistake.  
  
“Tom might have fallen for your bullshit in the past, Ackles,” Danneel counters, “but he’s learned from his mistakes and he’s pissed. I’m pissed. There’s nothing worse than a pissed off cop. And we will stop at nothing until you’re behind bars where you belong. Personally, I’m hoping that you leave here today in the back of a squad car.” Tom’s phone vibrates in his hand, and he silently stands and leaves the room to take the call. Jensen traces his movements and wonders how long he has before the cops bust in here with their warrant, plastic evidence bags and whatever else they show up with. Maybe he should have flown back to California after all.  
  
“I think that we should all just calm down.” Jared speaks and Jensen remembers just why he’s staying. For Jared, even though somehow this is all being turned back around on him. “Why are you and Agent Welling here?” Before Agent Harris – or Danneel, because what the hell, if he’s going to be trading verbal blows with her they might as well be on a first-name basis – can respond, Jensen hears the front door slam and Tom re-emerges with Chad hot on his heels. It’s been a good two years since he’s seen the scrawny, blond haired man but Chad looks exactly the same.  
  
“What are you doing here?” he asks, not bothering to hide the contempt in his tone. They’re not exactly friends. They don’t even tolerate each other for Jared’s sake, it’s been an out-and-out grudge war since they met. Jensen’s kind of ashamed to say that he’d probably lose in the best friend sweepstakes, but it’s not like he hides the fact that he’s an asshole.  
  
Chad rolls his eyes. “I’m here to see Jared. I didn’t realise that I’d be walking into an episode of Rizzoli and Isles.” Jensen has no idea what  _that_  is, but it’s not like he’s interested in anything Chad has to say.  
  
“Look, we have a warrant to search your apartment,” Tom cuts in before they can start arguing and Jensen feels himself tense up. He swallows and then meets Jared’s eyes. There’s a look in them that he can’t read but he tries to convey his innocence as best as he can. There’s nothing in response and he’s forced to turn back to Tom. “Right now I need you to follow Agent Harris and wait outside while we conduct our search.”  
  
“I know my rights,” Jensen remarks. “You think I don’t know how you people operate? The second my back is turned you’ll plant something.”  
  
Danneel laughs as she pulls herself up from the couch. “You know, you actually sound kind of worried. It’s oddly satisfying but no sorry, we’re waiting outside, buddy.” Chad’s watching the proceedings silently but Jensen can see him and Jared having some kind of mental conversation. That sends a flare of jealousy ricocheting through his chest.  
  
“Jared, are you coming outside?” he asks, once he’s up and by the doorway. Jared’s still on the armchair but he stands up and looks between Chad and Jensen.  
  
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things,” he replies. Jensen could kiss him right now, but he doesn’t, he just smiles weakly as relief courses through him. Jared’s got his back.  
  
Jared’s  _always_  had his back.  
  
The FBI tech guys have been carting stuff in and out, just strolling by casually like Jensen’s entire life isn’t at stake. He suspects that they don’t care either way. This is just a pay check to them, the way stealing was one for Jensen. Even now, after all of his vows to change, he still doesn’t think that nine – five is worth it, still doesn’t get why people let themselves be moulded into corporate robots and follow some rigid schedule that never changes.  
  
Either way, he gets the feeling that his time is up, and there’s no real shock when they cart a  _Turquoise Marilyn_ -sized canvas out of his apartment. It’s the perfect set up, really, and Jensen supposes that the wild goose chase he has been on will have its part to play in the evidence mounting up against him. It’s kind of hard not to laugh when Danneel turns to him and sweetly asks him to put his hands behind his back – she is probably in on it too.  
  
It’s hard to believe that this is really happening until Tom comes out, followed by Jared, who walks out of the elevator as if he’s just been shocked, and refuses to meet Jensen’s eye. Tom’s unusually pale as he approaches them. Jensen feels like everyone else has solved the puzzle but he’s still missing a piece, but what he does know is that he doesn’t want Jared to think that he has  _anything_ to do with this.  
  
“Jared,” he calls out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. “I didn’t do this.” Chad steps forward then and suddenly it feels like they’re all converging on him at once. Danneel, Tom, Chad, Jared. It feels like he’s on the menu and everyone’s ordered payback.  
  
“Jensen…” Tom’s voice trails off as he looks at Jensen and they both know what’s coming. “You’re under arrest for the suspected theft of  _Turquoise Marilyn_  at Cassidy Clarity on January 15th 2015. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the state.”  
  
Jensen looks at where Jared’s standing across from them in the apartment complex lobby, watching on with a disappointed look on his face. The rest of the arrest passes by quickly, and Jensen finds himself struggling against the grip of two officers, begging and pleading for Jared to say something, to believe his denial because suddenly nothing else matters. Not this sham of an arrest or the fact that the painting was inside his apartment.  
  
He just needs Jared to believe him.  
  
“Jared, I  _swear_  this wasn’t me. I swear to God. Jared, just. Look, I wouldn’t have done this to you. I know that it means nothing coming from me but I...wouldn’t. Not after everything. These past few weeks have been me. The real me. I swear!”

 

 

  
Jared doesn’t do anything, however, he just stands there and watches on. It confuses the hell out of Jensen until he’s in the back of the squad car and watching the city blur past him. He almost wants to laugh because this is completely ludicrous and he just, can’t understand. He can’t.  
  
It takes ten minutes for the wheels to start to turn in his mind after he overhears the cops saying that the painting was found in a secured bedroom. He thinks back and remembers that he locked his door with the  _code_ before he went to sleep.  
  
Yet Jared opened it so easily. Jensen’s one hundred percent sure that he’s never mentioned the code to Jared. So how the hell did he get in?  
  
How did he know the code?  
  
Why…why didn’t Jared say anything as the police carted him away?  
  
Jensen’s mind races back and forth, like a frantic game of ping pong. He ends up thinking about the riddle he’d cockily solved without thinking. It could also mean  _home_.  _His_  home where the painting has (probably) been all along.  
  
This time he does laugh. It’s bitter, cold and coloured with a dark realisation.  
  
What is it they say about payback being a bitch?

 

 

 

 

# Part Seven

## Jared

See, here's the thing: Jared's done a lot of thinking over the past year. A lot of it has been self-pitying and downbeat, and he always has that  _desperate, cloying_ feeling where the solution is sinking into a pit of despair or just doing  _something._ It’s easy to put all of the blame on one person. His father when he was growing up, Jensen in the last two years. It’s just so easy. The more he thought about the article, the more he wanted to get Jensen back somehow. The thing is that even though Jared set his mind on revenge, this is all…this isn’t exactly what he signed up for. He didn’t sign up to scheme, lie and play games until Jensen was carted off by the cops, but it’s obvious that Danneel and Tom won’t let this go until Jensen’s locked up for good and clearly, he’s just been one of their pawns. They’ve used him the way Jensen did and right now this doesn’t feel good, it feels dirty and… _wrong_.  
  
“It was me, okay, I sold the information to that journalist for the article!” Chad’s been pawing at him since Jensen was arrested and Jared finally tunes into the airwaves. They’re in Chad’s apartment, sitting on his coffee-stained couch. How they got here is a mystery to Jared, but here they are.  
  
“What?” he says, fully aware of what Chad has just said. It just makes no sense at all. Why would  _Chad_  do that to him? What reason could he possibly have for jeopardising everything that Jared worked hard for?  
  
Chad throws his hands up in the air, “You were like, fucking gone for this guy and I didn’t know how to get you out of it. I thought that maybe you would come to your senses and that you’d forget about Jensen but…” His friend trails off and although Jared isn’t particularly interested in the reasons and details, he can’t help asking Chad to continue.  
  
“Look, this whole mess blew up in my face, I’ll admit that,” Chad adds. “Jensen was the first one to realise it was me and he was fucking pissed, but he said that he wasn’t mad and that he’d try to take the heat off you. But by then it was too late. The FBI contacted me, said that I had to tell them _everything_  and I’m betting your old boss got the same visit.”  
  
Jared frowns as the words hit him slowly. “What do you mean that they contacted you?”  
  
“That Agent Harris, she made me tell her everything. Said she’d make your life a living hell if I didn’t.”  
  
Jared thinks about all of the interactions he’s had with Danneel over the past two weeks. The phone calls, right down to that day at the gallery when he bumped into her outside the coffee shop, right after he saw Tom and Jensen together for the first time. He thinks about how Tom dated him for four months, purely so he could spy on him and see if he was communicating with Jensen.  
  
“You said that you told Jensen everything,” Jared murmurs, suddenly feeling nauseated. “Did you tell him about Danneel?”  
  
“You mean Agent Harris?” Chad exhales deeply. “Yeah, I told him and look, all I know is that he went over there and next thing I know it’s ‘look after Jared because I have to skip town!’. Why? What’s going on?”  
  
“I just threw Jensen under the bus,” Jared intones quietly. “I was so angry that he left without a word, left me to deal with the fallout from the article. I…I should have known that there was more to it, especially after Danneel brought me into the plan. I planted the painting in the apartment, planted all of these clues and went along with it, even as he was trying to get me out of trouble.” Jared’s not proud of himself but he was just so angry. Livid that Jensen was suddenly back, married and apparently in  _love_  with him after ten years of letting him down.  
  
“I just wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me,” Jared continues. “Does that make me an asshole?”  
  
Chad doesn’t reply and it makes Jared feel even hollower, because there’s no coming back from this.  
  
He’s finally got his revenge and it sure as hell isn’t sweet. It’s cold, bitter and irreversible, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to live with it.  
  
“It doesn’t make you an asshole,” Chad says eventually. “It makes you human. I mean, you’ve spent most of the past two weeks talking about forgiveness and I know that you weren’t faking it, so…how did you get mixed up in this? I know that you wouldn’t have just agreed to go ahead with it just like that.”  
  
Jared remembers the day like it was yesterday. Watching Jensen and Tom in that café – witnessing the intimacy there with his own eyes and realising that Tom wasn’t just dating him for investigative purposes, but for  _Jensen_  purposes--which sounds stupid now--but that’s what he thought. He’s since realised that it wasn’t a coincidence that he turned around and bumped into Danneel. Danneel talked a good game. She said that it was a chance to get his own back – for revenge and in that moment right there, that’s all that Jared wanted.  
  
Of course, he should have known better than to even contemplate dealing with another FBI agent, because two days later when he tried to back out, she whipped out a video of him and Jensen on that stupid diamond heist. The one time that Jared slipped up and forgot that he was supposed to be the honest one. That one polarising moment that always comes up when he wonders if he’s any different from his supposed best friend.  
  
“But that doesn’t explain  _how_ she got the video,” Chad cuts in when Jared puts this to him. “I mean, who else knew you were there?”  
  
Chris, obviously. There’s a reason why Jared’s never been able to stand the guy. Not because he’s jealous or anything but because he’s  _sneaky_. Jared knew that within five minutes and Chris has done nothing to prove otherwise. Given that he’d been the one to tell Jared where Jensen was headed that night, it was a safe bet that he’d been the one to tape the whole thing. When Jared confronted him, he got some cock and bull story about Jensen being an ungrateful asshole who needed to be taught a lesson. Jensen never did tell Jared about the graveyard situation, but he was there when Chris ordered the flowers and watched as Chris told the caretaker exactly what to say.  
  
“Why the hell are yellow tulips relevant? And the message was about the painting, right?” Chad asks. Jared nods.  
  
“That’s where Lauren comes in,” he explains. “Jensen’s wife." Jared’s only met Lauren once – at a lunch they all had to get their stories straight. Technically she’s supposed to have been in L.A. the entire time, but she’s been here in New York. How she got involved is a mystery to Jared, given all that Jensen’s said about her. And Jensen never did get around to telling him what really happened. Either way, she said the tulips would freak Jensen out. Her exact words were ‘ _The best way to toy with Jensen is to play him at his own game, make him think he’s the smartest person in the room_ ’. He remembers because of the way his stomach churned at the thought of someone knowing Jensen just as well as he did.  
  
“That’s…man, that’s got to be cold,” Chad says. “I mean, the guy’s a first class asshole but his  _wife_ being in on it _?”_  
  
“I don’t know, out of all of us, she seemed a little…off,” he replies. “We were all following Danneel’s lead but Lauren had her own ideas.”  
  
“Yeah, I bet,” Chad sighs. “What about Tom…what did that jackass contribute?”  
  
Jared shakes his head. “The basketball player that punched Jensen at the gallery. Apparently Tom’s working the ‘ _who has Jensen Ackles screwed over?_ ’ part of the case.”  
  
Chad snorts. “Ugh. I don’t know where you find these people. I hate to ask this next question, but what exactly did  _you_  do?”  
  
Jared sighs. “I switched out the painting and…I had the couriers give him a fake address. Once he moved me in, I hid the painting in his room and...” He trails off, shame flooding him even though this is what he’s wanted for so long. The sweet taste of revenge. What a crock of shit that is. The knowledge that Jensen’s stuck in a rut that he can’t get out of, much like Jared when he was unemployed and struggling doesn’t make him feel anything but guilt. “Yesterday, I tried to warn him. They wanted the last message to come from someone who would really shake him up and I know that he’s always felt bad about fleecing this one woman, an old widow.” Jared could never understand why this one woman was so much worse than everything else Jensen did, but it was heartening to see that Jensen actually  _felt_  something. So Jared felt that he had to warn him.  
  
“But I don’t know, I guess he never figured it out because Chris came over. He said something to Jensen that shook him up and we didn’t get a chance to talk. Or maybe seeing Audrey – the woman – rattled his cage, either way, he wasn’t himself last night.”  
  
Chad shakes his head and levels Jared with an incredulous stare. “After all of that you  _warned_  him? Why? You finally have a chance to move on, to be rid of him. Why jeopardise that?”  
  
“You’re not an idiot, Chad, you know why – he’s one of my best friends,” Jared answers. “Actually, scratch that, he’s more than that and always has been. He’s all I’ve wanted for the last ten years and…I don’t want to see him go to jail. I don’t think any of us do – except for Danneel, maybe, and that’s because she’s the only one with her common sense intact.”  
  
“Yeah, that much is a given,” Chad says with a dry snort. “So, you, Tom and Lauren did all of this out of some type of scorned lover crap. Chris was upset that he wasn’t getting any as much cash as he thought he deserved. What’s in it for Danneel? Why is she so gung-ho about putting Jensen away that she’d actually  _frame_ him?”  
  
Jared blinks and shifts on the couch. He’s always just assumed that Jensen’s the one criminal who got away and that she’s trying to help Tom get revenge. Of course, now that he thinks about it, Tom getting duped is nobody's fault but his own and…Chad’s right, why go to all of that trouble? Why frame him. “Well, Jensen’s smart – maybe this is the only way she thought the FBI would get him?”  
  
“You meant to tell me that after all of that training, Jensen is smarter than  _every_  single agent?”  
  
Jared flounders briefly. Chad definitely has a point, but Jared only knows two things about Danneel - that she’s an FBI agent, and that she’s hell-bent on making sure Jensen spends the rest of his days in an orange jumpsuit.  
  
What else could she possibly be hiding?

 

 

  


## Jensen

  
Jensen's been sitting in the FBI's interrogation room for two hours, or seven thousand and two hundred seconds. He knows because he's counted every last one of them. Seven thousand, two hundred and one. Seven thousand, two hundred and two. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. They're trying to make him sweat. The heating is on full blast. There's no clock, to give the illusion of timelessness. No water. No offer to call his lawyer. It’s the same old song and rhyme. What the cops don't realise is that two hours to a criminal is like two freaking months. It's enough time to go through the different emotions that come with getting arrested. Enough time to practise saying no comment over and over. Enough time to come up with a story, and enough time to figure out how to talk themselves out of the mess. Of course, most criminals are too stupid to use the time afforded to them, or too dumb to figure out that they've got to be at least three steps ahead.  
  
Jensen knows that Jared is involved somehow. And of course there's Chris, with that bullshit about the diamond. Tom, without a doubt, because well - he had to grow balls at some point. Jensen can give him this one. Chad? No, he wouldn't. Not after their discussion about the article. Lauren?  
  
He's not thinking about that. About her.  
  
Dammit. The thing about being the smartest person in the room is that there's always one thing that can stand in the way. Arrogance. The graveyard scene with the tulips wasn't about the painting at all. It was a warning that he didn't quite receive.  
  
_Til death do us part._  
  
If he recalls it correctly, she called him on his way home and lied right through her teeth when he asked her outright. And you know what? He doesn't blame her. He fucked up and she's a vindictive woman - he knew that before he married her, knew that after he broke up with her. What she thinks she can achieve is a mystery to him, but he's got the message loud and clear. She wants his attention.  
  
The door clicks open just as Jensen's mind is circling on Danneel Harris. The agent who's been asking around about him over the past year, rattling his old associates to the point where they're calling him and asking him if he's working for the man.  
  
The irony is that, when Jensen returned to the city, the plan was to win Jared over and  _then_ rid himself of his little FBI problem; apparently they're a little too quick on the mark for him.  
  
"Jensen Ackles," Danneel says brightly as she enters. "We meet again." She gives him a lipstick stained smile as she sets a folder down onto the desk. Her eyes are cold and blank as she glares at him. Oh, right. Now it’s the intimidation part of the adventure. He doesn’t bother to hide his eye roll.  
  
"You didn't have to get all dressed up for me, darling," Jensen says. He smirks at her. “I’m kind of a cheap date.” He has no idea what he’s saying, but so long as he sits here and acts as if he’s not bothered, it doesn’t really matter. It’s all about whoever get under the other’s skin first and he’s not about to let her win. She might be a couple of steps ahead of him but he’s a fast mover.  
  
Danneel smirks right back at him, though hers is laced with a hint of bitterness. “Oh, yes I did, Ackles. I’ve been waiting for this day for a very long time.” Jensen snorts and shakes his head before he turns to look at Tom, who looks uncharacteristically stoic for once, expression on his face giving nothing away.  
  
“Oh really? You’ve been waiting for the day where you plant something on me and  _falsify_ evidence?” Jensen retorts. “The day where you search my apartment in front of a person of interest in the case? I mean, who’s to say that Jared wasn’t the one to steal the painting and provide false information?” Danneel laughs as she moves forward and takes a seat across from Jensen.  
  
“Jared wasn’t there, was he?” she asks. “Tom, do you remember seeing Padalecki at the apartment during our  _legal_  search?” Jensen doesn’t miss her emphasis on the word ‘legal’ and the way she doesn’t break eye contact. She’s good, but not  _that_  good, and Jensen can see the obvious misdirection. He thinks back to Chris’ phone call. Chris might be a back-stabbing, petulant asshole, but he wouldn’t let Jensen’s ass rot in jail with no warning. He wouldn’t let Jensen know about the search warrant if there wasn’t a way for him to get out of it unless…  
  
“I trust that you’ll have a copy of the appropriate search warrant for my lawyer,” he tells her. “I’d hate to see your hard work be undone.”  
  
“There was nothing wrong with our warrant,” Tom pipes up. Danneel turns to give him a stern look, and Tom’s mouth snaps shut and presses into a thin line. Jensen openly snorts at him and mimes a whip being lashed.  
  
“I don’t remember you being this submissive when you were with me, Tommy,” he says with a low whistle. Danneel’s hand slams down onto the table, the loud noise reverberating in the small, stuffy room. Her eyes are blazing furiously now and Jensen’s curious. This goes beyond  _work_  or wanting to do her job well. This is personal. He just can’t figure out what the connection is.  
  
“You know what Ackles, I was willing to cut a deal with you – hell, I was willing to make a deal for your buddy Jared, and his role in the diamond theft, but I’ve changed my mind,” Danneel informs him. “See, here’s what I’m going to tell the judge and jury before they send your ass to jail. You married a wealthy woman but she rejected you.  
  
“So you came back to New York – and suddenly all these scumbags that you owe money came clawing out of the woodwork, Katie Cassidy offered you a chance to generate some buzz for her new gallery and you saw an opportunity. You suggested that she hire your former partner in crime, Jared, and he helped her choose items to borrow – including  _Turquoise Marilyn_  and voila – you stole the painting. Made it look like Jared was guilty to throw the scent off yourself.” She seems so proud of herself than he can’t help laughing, especially when he sees Tom’s sheepish expression. He can't bring himself to believe they sent him on a wild goose chase for this - just to rattle his cage and lead him into their sloppy final act. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful or sympathetic.  
  
“You know, Tom and I did a whole lot of catching up the other night,” he says slowly. “I like Tom, or well, I did before you convinced him to mess around with Jared. That was your idea wasn’t it? And well executed too. You made sure you had dirt on him – on all of us. But you didn’t think to wipe your own muddy footprints.” Her shoulders tense and Jensen knows that she’s about to fall right into his trap. In truth, Tom hadn’t really confirmed that it was Danneel’s idea, but he hadn’t denied it either. He wasn’t stupid enough to miss the fact that Jensen recorded their entire conversation. He doesn’t have jack squat on Danneel, but she doesn’t know that.  
  
Jensen winks at her. “You had to have known that I would have heard the phone calls. Especially once I moved Jared in.” Danneel doesn’t even blink, just stares at him hard. Her nails turn white as she grips the folder tightly, and he can see the moment she starts to unravel. Her demeanour changes, somehow getting colder, as if that were possible. Though, Jensen supposes, anger will do that to a person.  
  
“Fine, you’re right, we don’t have the right warrants, hell, there are lot of holes we need to plug before we can charge you with the theft of the painting, but I got what I wanted,” she tells him icily. “You in handcuffs, at the mercy of the FBI. And I know you well enough to know that betrayal is what hurts the most. Jared Padalecki conspiring against you? That must hurt. It mus—“  
  
“You know this has been fun and all, but you really should do your fact checking,” Jensen interrupts. He’s not in the mood for an unnecessary monologue. “I own a fifty percent stake of  ** _Cassidy Clarity_**. But I’m sure you already knew that, right? Why would I steal a painting that I would be financially liable for?” Jensen feels like he’s showing his hand slightly but he’s tired and his headache is making its way back to the brain station. He feels like a complete idiot because there are probably easier, less honest ways he could have gotten the painting back, had he not been following those stupid clues in the hopes that he’d get Jared out of trouble.  
  
Judging by the stunned silence, Danneel had no idea. Even Tom looks stunned.  
  
“Look, Danneel, we can’t charge him for the fake theft of the painting,” Tom says. “I told you that this would never work. All of that stuff we have over his friends and his wife? It’s nothing compared to what they’d be willing to do to get him out of here. Nothing. You tricked and schemed them into helping you and sure, you got your arrest. But you and I both know that none of this will hold up in court.” Jensen has no idea why Tom’s going to bat for him but---  
  
“I do however, have a better plan,” Tom continues. “You see, I have several signed affidavits that place Jensen at the scene of several thefts over the past ten years. I have bank statements, eye-witness accounts and photo evidence. I even ran his finger prints in NCIC and voila, his sticky fingers have left a trail all over the city since we last picked him up. Now we might not be able to make it stick but, hell we can have fun trying, while Ackles enjoys his stay in county jail.”  
  
Tom smiles at him sweetly as he leans forward and places a hand on Danneel’s shoulder. “Looks like  _you’re the one_ who didn’t stop to wipe your muddy footprints.”  
  
Jensen doesn’t flinch but he knows that this time, he’s well and truly screwed.

 

 

  


## Jared

  
Even though Jared's spent a fair portion of his life worrying about Jensen ending up in jail, he's not prepared for the shock of walking into a room full of prisoners. It's not like it's a room full of killers - it's a low security prison. There's just...so much orange.  
  
The guard directs him to an empty table in the middle of the room and watches him closely as he takes a seat. He hasn't really spoken to Jensen since the day of his arrest, and the guilt of that situation is slowly eating away at him. Chad's tried to beat it into his head that he was angry, and kind of justified, but the fact is that they're friends. Best friends. They've always had each other’s backs. Yeah, sure, Jensen could be an asshole, but ultimately he never actively sought to put Jared in jail. The fact that he chickened out isn't even any solace, because after Tom, he should have  _known_. He should have known better than to get caught up in the FBI's bullshit.  
  
Besides feeling like a sack of shit and dealing with an oddly cold Katie at the gallery, Jared's been trying to at least figure out why Agent Harris is so desperate to put Jensen away. It's all he can do. Chris won't take his calls and he can't get hold of Tom. He feels like he's been used up, spat out, an left to dry out in the wilderness. His mom's been pestering him for details about Jensen's arrest since it made the news. It's been a week of ' _but he seems like such a sweet boy_ ' and ' _I thought Jensen was an artist, like you?'_ because she's never going to let up on the fact that he's a failed artist just like hundreds of other people in the Manhattan art scene. Anyway, his mom aside, he did manage to dig something up, though how much it helps is another question. The only point of contact he has is Rhodes and even she seemed cold. He passed on as much of his explanation to her in the hopes that it'll reach Jensen, even though Chad keeps telling him that he doesn't need to do anything - doesn't need to justify himself.  
  
The problem is that what Chad says doesn't hold much weight when Jared doesn't feel that way.  
  
"Jared?" He's thrown out of his thoughts by Jensen's arrival. He remains silent as Jensen takes his seat. For some reason hands tremble as Jensen's green eyes zone in on him. He looks exactly the same besides the bags under his eyes and the stark paleness of his skin--and okay, so maybe he doesn't look the same.  
  
"Uh, h-hi," Jared splutters, when Jensen gives him a questioning look. Jensen not speaking is a bad sign, he knows that much. "How...how is it in here? Rhodes wouldn't tell me much. She didn't even want to talk to me but...I had to know and I..." He trails off, slightly unnerved by the way Jensen's watching him. He knows what angry Jensen looks like and this isn't it. This is...  
  
"You're not planning on busting out of here are you?" Jared's got to ask. It wouldn't even be the craziest thing that Jensen's done. "You have that look in your eye..."  
  
Jensen raises a brow. "What look?" His tone is unreadable, face mostly passive, and Jared wants to scream. Or he wants Jensen to scream. Either way, what they're doing right now isn't working. Not when they have twenty minutes to say what they need to say.  
  
"Whatever," he replies. "You're angry with me. I get it. And I can't undo what I did, but maybe I can help with Agent Harris. She...I mean, I'm sure she's told you all about the painting. Chris gave her some footage of me on that diamond heist, so it was too late by the time I backed out and she sai--"  
  
"It doesn't matter what she said," Jensen cuts in. "None of this matters anymore. She wasted her time with the painting, just like how Tom's wasting his time with all of these burglary and petty theft charges. And honestly, I don't care what her motives are." Jensen's voice remains level the whole time he speaks, eyes still passive. It weirds Jared out a little.  
  
"I think it does matter," Jared says. "I mean, you like to think you're the smartest person in the room. Have you figured out why she's so angry? Because I have. And I’m trying to tell you."  
  
"No, I haven’t, because I’ve been stuck in here," Jensen says blankly. Jared’s not sure how to respond to that, so he’s grateful when Jensen continues. "Go on then, Einstein. Enlighten me."  
  
Jared clears his throat. "You remember Lindsay Johnson, right?" It seems like every single muscle in Jensen's body tenses up at that name. Lindsay was a mutual friend of theirs. Actually, she started off as Jared's friend; they met during a course they were both doing and they bonded over their love of art. She was the classic tortured artist type and, like most of the people he dared to bring around, she had a thing for Jensen. Jared's not sure if they ever had a physical relationship, but she was one of the friends that Jensen actually warmed to.  
  
"What about her?" Jensen asks. "What could she possibly have to do with Agent Harris?"  
  
"Well, I was looking into Danneel and I came across this picture and...they're both in it. I did some asking around and it turns out that they were very good friends." Jensen frowns at that and swallows visibly.  
  
"She can't possibly blame me for what happened," he says through gritted teeth. "She can't."  
  
Jared shrugs. "When it comes to the people you love, it's hard to see reason. All it boils down to is that you were the last person to see her before she vanished." Jensen stares at him for a long moment. Jared asked Jensen about Lindsay once and once only, and until today they've never spoken about it. Jared found that it was easier to just remember the good times he had with her than to dwell over what happened. It's been seven years and they've not so much as uttered her name.  
  
"If Agent Harris was half the agent she thinks she is, she'd know that her friend lives a pretty good life in California," Jensen says. Jared is pretty sure that his mouth falls open in surprise. It feels like no matter how much time he's spent around Jensen, there's always going to be information that he isn't privy to, always going to be some secret hiding around the corner.  
  
"She was miserable, Jared," Jensen starts to explain. "And hell, maybe we weren't any better, but we had each other. You were just about to start your job and she was stuck hanging around with me while I painted forgeries - she wanted me to teach her how to fence paintings but I said no. Told her to stick to what she was doing but...that didn't help. I...I know what it's like when you're down and broke and stuck listening to that  _stupid_ voice in your head. And I could see her spiralling, so I took one of her paintings, pretended that I got money from it - that's how I got mixed in with Johnny and all of those crooks. I gave her the money and told her to pack up her shit, move somewhere and start again."  
  
Jared flounders slightly when Jensen stops his explanation there. It does make sense. Around that time he  _was_  just about to start his job and Jensen started going beyond forgeries. The vain part of Jared has always thought Jensen’s progression into the darker aspects of illegal art transactions was about  _him_ ; a way of proving the 'college is for dummies' theory but...this makes more sense. Before he can respond, the guard announces that they have two minutes left.  
  
Suddenly there's so much to say and very little time to say it in.

 

 

 

 

 

  
Jared’s at the gallery the day after he visits Jensen, cleaning the display cases, when he realises that Aldis is watching him. This isn’t the first time he’s spotted Aldis doing this but this is the day that he’s finally going to say something. He’s finally stopped deluding himself that the hostility from Aldis  _and_ Katie isn’t related to Jensen. He makes eye contact with the other man while squirting more cleaning fluid on the glass. He uses his other hand to wipe the liquid off and takes a step back, turning away in order to admire his handiwork.  
  
“So what’s the real deal with this gallery?” Jared asks, in a conversational tone. "Is it one of Jensen's pet projects or just a way for him to smuggle and sell all of the art he's accumulated over the years?" Tom had only been too happy to let Jared know that Jensen, in fact, co-owned the gallery and that the only reason why he had a job was because his 'boyfriend' had literally rebirthed his career with all of the illegal funds he'd acquired. In short, Tom was even more annoying when gloating, and Jared has no idea what he ever saw in him. Or, for that matter, why he ever thought Agent Harris was a reasonable woman. When he told her about Lindsay her response had essentially been ' _Get the fuck out of my office_ '. So right now, Jensen's stuck in jail and there's nothing Jared can do about it. Chris has gone off the grid, and he wouldn't even be able to get through to Lauren if he wanted to.  
  
Aldis merely looks amused. "You know I met Jensen through Johnny, whom I believe you've met. At first I thought he was a smarmy little prick with his 'smartest person in the room' shit but...he's not all bad. He doesn't pretend to be something he's not. So yeah, you can call this a pet project, or you can call it Jensen having your back when no other gallery in this city would touch you."  
  
The words sting like a sharp slap to the face but Jared knows that he definitely needed to hear it.  
  
"Jared, we have a delivery out back," Katie saunters past them, apparently oblivious to their conversation. "Oh and there's a woman waiting to see you in the office." She walks off before he can query her, and he rolls his eyes and turns back to Aldis.  
  
"But Chris deals with Jensen's money and all of that - aren't you a legit accountant?" Jared's knows he hasn't been in the loop for almost two years but recent betrayal aside, where Jensen goes, Chris follows. They're like brothers. Or well, they were.  
  
Aldis shrugs. "We found out that Chris was skimming money off here and there. That situation you helped Jensen out with a few weeks back? That was money he thought had been paid; Jensen had no choice but to make sure it was all squared up. Guys like that tend to go straight for the jugular. Wife, kids, lover." That last word feels like a dig at Jared's expense, but he lets it roll off him. He’ll finish this conversation with Aldis later.  
  
After dealing with the delivery quickly, Jared heads to the office, where he's greeted by the sight of Lauren and Katie chattering away like long-lost friends. It’s strange given that Katie referred to her as ‘some woman’ a few minutes ago, but when it comes to Katie, nothing surprises him anymore. The talking dies down abruptly when they see him, and Katie excuses herself quickly, stopping briefly to pat Jared on the shoulder. She's gone before he can acknowledge it and he's left standing across from Lauren. She's beautiful. She was the first time he saw her, and she is now. Right down from her silky brown hair, to the perfect make-up and designer clothing, he can only imagine what she and Jensen must have looked like together. He's sure they looked like the perfect couple; shiny, pretty and too delicate to last.  
  
"Jensen told me a lot about you," Lauren says, her words smooth and clipped. "Too much, really. I think he knew that I didn't really like it, but did it anyway. That was our thing, chipping away at each other. I...when he left, I knew he was going to come running back to you and I did my best to deter him. And when the FBI Agent got in contact, I was in bad mood. He wouldn't answer my calls and I hate being ignored."  
  
"Let me guess, you tried to back out too?" Jared asks. Lauren snorts and shakes her head,  
  
"No way," she retorts. "I wanted Jensen to suffer, wanted him to sit in a cell for as long as he'd wasted my time by marrying me when he was in love with someone else, then trying to blame  _me_  when everything fell apart."  
  
"Okay," Jared says, suddenly feeling very tired. "So why exactly are you here? I'm sure chit-chatting with me isn't on the top of your bucket list."  
  
"Jensen's not speaking to me, or Chris. Just his lawyer and...there are things he needs to be aware of, things that I need you to tell him because right now, he's hurting. We - and yes, that includes you - betrayed him and he's not thinking straight."  
  
Jared just about refrains from saying  _well, duh_  because it isn’t as though he’s told her otherwise. He doesn’t need an outsider to tell him who he has and hasn’t betrayed. He’s also not going to be anybody’s go-between.  
  
"I'm not going to do your dirty work for you," Jared tells her. "I've owned up to what I did. I don't have to feed him whatever bullshit story that you have in mind." Jared can hear that he sounds a little bitter, even though he's not jealous. At least, he doesn't think he is. Comparing himself to Lauren is slightly weird but on the face of it, she has wealth and access to expensive things and he doesn't. She got Jensen to commit, while Jared was resigned to the role of friend with benefits for ten years. It's just the way it is. He'd rather not get involved and cause himself any more pain, or reignite the anger he's finally learning how to let go of.  
  
" _Please_ ," Lauren pleads. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't need your help and...Chris wouldn't either." Jared, sucker that he is, sees the desperate gleam in her eyes and feels his resolve weakening. He shuts the office door, and moves to sit down on the computer chair.  
  
He looks at her. "What the hell does Chris have to do with anything? Besides the fact that he gave the FBI a copy of the pink diamond video he made _without_ Jensen’s knowledge.”  
  
“Chris is…he’s a lost soul, not unlike Jensen,” Lauren says softly, with a strange look taking over her eyes. Jared starts to feel uncomfortable. “He is just frustrated about having to tailor his life to Jensen’s and…I don’t know what kind of pact they made, but it’s tight. And he has issues with you – thinks that you’re no good. You know the pink diamond heist makes a hell of a story, right? Jensen and you navigating the house undetected in the midst of all of those guests.”  
  
“Is that Chris’ problem?” Jared asks defensively. “That  _I_ was actually the one who helped them pull that off. Hell, he called  _me_!”  
  
Lauren sighs, “He thought you would freak out and drop Jensen. That it would go back to being just the two of them. I can’t imagine that he had a lot of fun as a third wheel.” Jared shakes his head. Of course Chris thought that.  
  
“Why would he tell  _you_  all of this?” He demands to know because it makes little sense that Chris would blab to Jensen’s soon-to-be ex-wife.  
  
Lauren eyes him carefully. “Let’s just say that we bonded over certain things.” Her tone makes it clear that she is going to say no more than that, but from the slight blush on her cheeks and the tense lines of her body, it’s very obvious what kind of bonding she’s talking about. Whatever. It has nothing to do with Jared.  
  
“What things does he need to be aware of?” Jared gives in, not wanting to hear anything else that he can’t deny all knowledge of later. Lauren doesn’t reply at first, just watches him closely before reaching into her purse and pulling something out. He takes it from her and stares down at it; a lump forms in his throat and he swallows  _hard_.  
  
“Well…this changes everything,” he says thickly.  
  
All she does is stare at him with a hint of fear in her eyes.

 

 

 

## Jensen

  
  
Jensen inhales deeply as the cool breeze fans against his face. The air probably smells like crap, but to him, it’s wonderful. After a month of residing in the county jail, the judge finally threw out most of the charges at the preliminary hearing and adjourned the trials for the others. Rhodes, his lawyer, has been buzzing in his ear about coming up with a defence strategy, but he’s not sweating on that, not when he has a whole list of things to throw at the FBI should they choose to pursue him. Right now he has to figure out what the hell he’s going to do with his life, because as fun as being a conman and thief has been, he  _really_  is ready to quit the game. No more looking back and always having to be  _on_. He just wants to be  _Jensen_. He wants to be able to have lunch with his mom without feeling like a disappointment, wants to be able to finally sit across from his dad and not resent him.  
  
Jail has been an interesting experience. Nothing like his brief stays in precinct holding cells. Jensen’s lucky that he has a knack for charming people because things could have gotten rough. He managed to avoid any serious trouble - with the exception of a card game that went awry when his opponent realised he was dealing the second card from the stack and reserving the first for his cellmate. In some ways the worst thing about it wasn’t even the fighting, but the long hours in his tiny cell, with his cellmates laboured breathing for entertainment. In that tiny, stifling room there was no way he could shut out his thoughts, no way he could pretend that it was all a nightmare; that he hadn’t been out-manoeuvred, and become a victim of his own arrogance.  
  
The multiple betrayals are what played on his mind the most. He thinks about a Leonardo da Vinci quote that he read once: ‘ _Every action needs to be prompted by a motive_ ’. He realises early on that it is entirely his fault. He didn’t give Lauren a chance to even say her piece and he knew first-hand what she was like, petty and prone to holding grudges. Chris was tired of being in the shadows; unhappy that Jensen wanted to quit everything without considering where that left him. Tom was reacting to all of the terrible things Jensen did to him, Danneel was trying to seek some kind of redemption for her friend. In Jared’s case, years of frustration and hurt combined into one and exploded at the wrong time. Or maybe this is the  _right_  time because if Jensen needed something to reinforce his decision to go into ‘early retirement’, this would certainly be it.  
  
Jensen really wants to forgive Jared, but he’s not sure if Jared forgives  _him_. If he’ll ever be able to put the past to rest and move on. Without that, there’s nothing for them here because Jensen’s finally starting to see that throwing money at everything just sets off a time bomb. Things might be okay at first but sooner or later, destruction rears its ugly head and all there is left to do is to hold on. He tried to help Lindsay, and now she’s the reason why the three people he cares about the most conspired to get him locked up for one of the crimes he actually didn’t commit. It would be worth it if Lindsay wasn’t a vapid Malibu housewife going by the name of Laura. She’s still the same tortured artist, except now she’s trapped in a character of her own making. And that’s his fault. Just like it’ll be his fault when Jared walks away. He’s had enough time to realise just how much he’s overstepped the mark and it doesn’t matter if Jared let him for the sake of the con – it still happened and…he doesn’t want it hanging over his head. Over  _their_  heads.  
  
“Surprise!” An orotund voice pierces his reverie and he looks up to see Jared waiting awkwardly just outside the last barrier the prison has between mayhem and the outside world. He squints as he adjusts to the light, giving Jared an appraising look before he returns the small smile. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to switch himself  _on_.  
  
He doesn’t understand why Jared’s here.  
  
“What are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely, his voice strained due to disuse. He didn’t exactly make friends in there. “I didn’t…didn’t think anyone would be here.”

 

 

  
“Well, it’s like you always say, we’ve got each other backs and I know I can’t change what happened but you know all about that,” Jared replies. “But we’re kind of like the ewe and lamb in  _Anguish_. You and me against the menacing crows, right?” He can tell that Jared’s trying to keep things light-hearted but it just reminds him of when he found  _Anguish_. He remembers looking at the ewe standing over the body of her limp lamb, taking in the sight of the dark crows circling around, blood-thirsty and hungry. It always made him wonder just how long that ewe would stand there before the crows got _her_. He always thinks  _what happened next_?  
  
“Right,” he says slowly, feeling bad when Jared’s face falls. “Uh, where are you staying? I think the Feds should have cleared out of my place by now, right? God, what I’d kill for good night’s sleep.”  
  
“Lauren wanted me to talk to you,” Jared informs him, completely out of the blue and Jensen stands there, his meagre belongings gripped tightly by near-white fingers. He wonders why they have to do this  _now_. What’s so important that it can’t wait?  
  
“She wanted me to give you this.” Jared hands him a small piece of what feels like film paper, but before he can take a look, the revving of a car engine draws his attention away.  
  
Even behind the giant, unnecessary shades, there’s no way he wouldn’t recognise Agent Harris and Tom. Quite what they want is a mystery to him. Danneel rolls down her window and calls out, “Is it true? Is she okay?” Jensen rolls his eyes even though he knows that this is much more than a friend seeking revenge on behalf her ‘missing friend’ – this has been about revenge,  _period_.  
  
“She’s fine,” he tells her. “She’s alive. Goes by the name Laura Caldwell.” He doesn’t bother to warn Danneel because after all of this, she deserves to fly to Malibu and get a door slammed in her face. He doesn’t add anything else as Danneel removes her shades and nods gently before driving away. In an attempt to avoid making eye contact with Jared, he looks down at the paper in his hand and gasps instinctively. He wants to ask a million questions and run away all at the same time, but all he can do is look up at Jared and ask, “Is this for real?”  
  
Jared’s smiling, even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Jensen realises what this means. “Yeah, it’s real. Congratulations,  _Dad_.” Jensen flinches, suddenly feeling cold.  
  
“Don’t,” he says, “Just. Don’t.” Jared gapes at him wordlessly, and Jensen turns and starts to walk down the isolated pathway, his mind suddenly racing with an avalanche of thoughts.

 

 

  
Jensen chuckles dryly as he darts out of the small boarded building and into the alleyway. He’s not sure why he’s relatively pleased, when his life is a mess at the moment. He fingers the small black pouch in his pocket and tells himself that it has nothing to do with Jared. Not selling his very  _real_  pink diamond has nothing to do with Jared. It doesn’t represent anything, isn’t irrevocably linked to Jared in his mind, his heart.  
  
And he’s totally not lying to himself.  
  
Chris’ tomfoolery aside, he was definitely ready to part with it before, ready to just pay back everything, but being in jail made he regain perspective. He wasn’t a saint or a modern day Robin Hood. Sure, he was tired of the fast lifestyle but selfish enough to realise that he was somewhat materialistic.  
  
He was too much of a coward to reopen more wounds, to face up to all of the damage he’s caused.  
  
The one lesson he’s definitely learned is that a leopard doesn’t change its spots. Take Chris for instance. Loyalty dictates that he stand by Chris, accept him flaws and all, and forgive him for screwing around with Jared  _and_ Lauren (and boy, that ended up being a pleasant conversation). His head is singing a different tune because it’s one thing for Chris to be skimming money here and there, but fucking with his family? Lying to his face day in and out and trying to cover his ass with his bullshit warning? That’s what’s unforgivable. Jensen doesn’t have any time for fence sitters and is willing to bet that Tom’s stupid cases all have the stench of Chris’ betrayal all over them. Chris’s pathetic excuse had been that he wanted the glory for once, wanted to be the face of the operation. He was ‘tired of hearing about the infamous Jensen Ackles’ and ‘fed up with people not acknowledging the fact that he was the one who’d  _made_  Jensen into what he was'.  
  
He hails a cab at the main street, rattling off Chris’ address almost automatically.  
  
Jensen wishes that things were different, but he just can’t understand why Chris would turn on him just because he wants to have his name out there. It’s preposterous and ridiculous and maybe there’s more, a better reason, but that’s what he’d rather not go through - he’s heard enough. So, he's decided to give Chris his share of everything, so they can part ways. Just standing in Chris’ apartment makes him feel hollow because greed and narcissism didn’t need to get in the way here. Jensen would have given him anything he asked for and done anything for him. He almost can’t believe that things are ending this way.  
  
“What about the diamond?” Chris is subdued as when they’ve finished tallying everything up, and he can barely meet Jensen’s eye. “And Lauren? I can’t just – I like her.” Lauren shifts from where she’s sitting on the couch. She looks extremely uncomfortable but that could be down to the baby, which, never fails to freak him out. He hasn’t commented on her relationship with Chris because he can’t be entirely sure that it’s not some plan the two of them cooked up. All he does is follow her to appointments and takes care of what he can without engaging in conversation.  
  
“You must think I was born yesterday,” Jensen snaps. “But whatever. I hope the two of you are very happy together. And you can forget about the diamond. While we’re at it, I want your copies of the video showing me and Jared at the scene.” Chris and Lauren share a look. They do this a lot, act like they’re concerned about him. He ignores it, like he usually does. Chris vanishes into one of his rooms and starts rustling around. Jensen stands in the middle of the living room, and looks down at the vast array of items spread across the room as well as the two large piles of cash- one for him and one for Chris. He’s tempted to just leave his share here, but now that the gallery is his legitimate business, it might do him well to have a stash for rainy day fun.  
  
“And what about Jared?” Lauren asks. “I haven’t seen you guys together since the last event at the gallery. I thought that…” She trails off when she sees Jensen shrugging his jacket back on. He’s not about to discuss Jared with her. Mostly because he hasn’t spoken to Jared properly since he got out. Call it fear, cowardice – whatever. What’s the point in raking through leaves endlessly? He’s not going to drag Jared into this weird family dynamic when he deserves better.  
  
He deserves so much better.

 

# Epilogue

  
  
It's a Friday evening and Jensen's kicking back and watching  _Die Hard_  on television. It's been a year since he got out of his four week stint at the county jail. Luckily for him, all but one of the cases was thrown out, and Rhodes doesn't think he should worry too much about the last one. It's just a way for the FBI to show him that they're watching, apparently. That may be the case, but Jensen doesn't like it all that much. Not now that he has an actual family to worry about. Jared was one thing - same with Lauren - but... it’s all changed now he has a kid: someone who relies on him because they has no choice, someone who needs a role model to look up to and not a father who is rotting away in a jail cell. Jensen can't just sit around and wait for things to go away, or hope that if he throws enough energy and time and certain things, they'll just magically be okay. He can't slip up the way his dad did.  
  
There's an offer lying on his office table right now that could make all of the uncertainty go away. It's not something he's eager to do but at this point, it's fast looking like his best option, rather than spending the next couple of years watching his back and waiting for the FBI to swoop in and make up some crap whenever the next agent he crosses decides to try and fuck up his life. Rhodes isn't convinced by the offer. Lauren doesn't care. She still thinks that he ran Chris out of town and he lets her believe that because the truth isn't anything that she'd want to hear - it wasn't when she was six months pregnant and wondering why Chris hadn't called in two weeks and it definitely isn’t now. There was an email explaining everything but it's been ten months since Chris left and Jensen doesn't have the heart to show it to her, to say  _I told you so_. Anyway, the fact is that besides matters revolving around their kid or impending divorce, they don't talk much.  
  
So that leaves one person.  
  
Right on cue, there's a knock on the door and Jensen stops to listen to the baby monitor briefly. There's nothing so he goes to answer the door. It's Jared, who gives him a bashful smile as he lets him in. They're in the midst of fall but it's not all that cold outside yet, so Jensen raises an eyebrow at the fact that Jared's bundled in a heavy jacket.  
  
"I just got back from seeing my mom," he explains. "New York always feels a touch colder when you come back from Texas." Jensen snorts but doesn't dispute his point. He hasn't been back there for a long time so he wouldn't know.  
  
"How was she?" he asks.  
  
Jared holds up a cardboard food box and grins. "Good. Really good now that she doesn't have a million bills over her head. She said I should give you this. It's her famous apple pie." Jensen nods. Right. He overstepped his boundaries and paid off all of her bills. Even though it hasn't been that long, it sometimes feels like years since he came back to the city and told Jared that he was in love with him.  
  
"Are you okay?" Jared asks. They move along the hallway and into the main area of the apartment. Jensen gestures for him to sit on the couch while he thinks about the best way to answer the question. “How’s Tyler?” Jared’s only met Jensen’s kid a handful of times, all at the gallery when Lauren’s dropping him off. Technically, Jensen is supposed to pick Tyler up at her apartment and at first he wondered if she was checking in on him but...after a while he stopped caring. They get along better when they leave everyone else out and focus on the important things.  
  
"He’s great and…I'm as good as I can be," he replies eventually. "I'm sorry that we haven't talked much since everything happened. I hear that you're doing great work at  _Clarity_. Katie told me that you were thinking of showing some of your work?" It's ironic that Jared finds his mojo when Jensen can barely look at a paintbrush without his stomach churning.  
  
"Yeah, I...I guess when you're inspired it just happens," Jared tells him. "I've spent so long feeling like I was never going to get a hang of the whole  _artist_ thing, and convincing myself that it didn’t matter but it did. It does.”  
  
Jared certainly seems freer, relieved of all of the anger and torment that the past few years brought him. It warms Jensen to see that at least one of them is doing okay.  
  
Jensen smiles at him. “You should have listened to me all of those years ago. I told you that you had talent, you just needed to believe in yourself.” He knows that he probably didn’t help with his comments over the years regarding art degrees. He never really got why Jared’s mom didn’t talk him out of it, but, as stupid as it sounds, he kind of does now.  
  
“I…I guess I was jealous a little,” Jared admits. “Of you. I mean, you didn’t give a damn about the meaning of it all and what went into an artwork and I thought that maybe you were right. Maybe it was all stupid. But then you’d paint a forgery and do it so beautifully and I’d just think, ‘this guy doesn’t care about any of this but he’s so good at it!’ and it just spiralled from there.” It hurts to hear that Jared felt that way because of him; that he thought he was less of an artist because Jensen copied other people’s work for money. That Jensen was the one holding him back. He still remembers that day when Jared found out about the forgeries, the first day that they…anyway, he never forgets what Jared said about him using his talent to create something new. It’s what they argued about before everything exploded in their faces, what they continued to disagree on as the years flew by.  
  
Jensen was never the dreamer here, never the inspired creator. He was just the guy whose only redeemable quality was that he could copy things, imitate them to the point where no one could read the lines between what was real and what wasn’t.  
  
“There’s a quote that says something about it being better to fail at being original than to succeed at imitation,” he says. “And I think it’s true because I’m not an artist, Jared. Never have been. And sometimes I curse the fact that my best talent is one that I didn’t even  _want_. Back when I was a kid, we moved around a lot and I’d have to leave everything behind. When I complained to my Dad, he said I should take pictures – like he didn’t gamble away the camera at some late night poker game. So I drew. I drew whatever I didn’t want to forget. And it became a habit, a way of coping.”  
  
“Is that why you drew me? You didn’t want to forget?” Jared looks nervous and Jensen knows that if there’s a time that he can just say something that takes them from being two guys to  _partners_  it’s now. And by the same token, if he really thinks that Jared deserves better, now’s the time to ensure that happens.  
  
“I drew you because you were there and that’s what I do,” he replies, trying his hardest to keep any emotion out of his voice. “Or did. Back before I got into the other stuff.” Jared looks a little shocked, hazel eyes wide and full of what appears to be disappointment. Jensen swallows and waits for the rebuttal that he knows is coming.  
  
“If you say so,” Jared retorts in a tone that implies he knows better. “I can't tell you why you did certain things and I can’t argue with what you tell yourself.”  
  
Jensen half raises an eyebrow and shrugs, says, “You know what our problem is? Too much focus on the past. Too many Daddy issues. Too much focus on us. I came back to New York because I thought that I missed you – thought that a declaration would change everything, make it better. But it didn’t and—“  
  
Jared halts his words with a hand. “Stop. I know what you’re doing. You think that a couple of choice words here and there will stop me from telling you that I want to be with you, like I’ve done since that day you sat next to me in that Impressionism class. It’s not going to work.”  
  
“Oh, it’s not?” Jensen says with a bitter laugh, knowing that  _this_  is the moment. The moment where he has to go in for the kill, make all of the hurt he’s feeling count. “How are we ever supposed to be together and be anything but dysfunctional when I can’t trust you?” Jared’s determined expression falters and bleeds into one of guilt. Jensen feels his heart pounding in his chest, but he ignores it and does his best to push the feeling down.  
  
It takes Jared a while to get his bearings together but eventually he clears his throat and says, “I guess I thought enough time had passed. We’ve barely spoken since everything happened and I just…I thought space was all that we needed because you never once came to see me and said, ‘Jared, I don’t love you anymore’.” Jensen bites at his lip to stop himself from saying that he  _does_  love Jared. He just doesn’t love all of the drama that surrounds them, the messiness. The fact that Jared spent most of his time with Jensen telling him how he really felt, being angry and wanting nothing to do with him.  
  
“We can’t be together, Jared,” Jensen tells him. “The stuff with the FBI hasn’t gone away. They sent me something through my lawyer. They want me to make a deal in return for them dropping the last charge. And it’s not the kind of case that I can just make go away – they have proof that I was there, and it’s bad…if I don’t take this deal, I could do serious jail time and that’s not an option. I’m not going to do that to Tyler.”  
  
“Oh, god, that’s…I’m sorry,” Jared stutters. “I mean, it’s better than prison, right? And after you’re done, that’s it? And maybe we can keep it on the low. Meet here or my place? I can help out with Tyler and maybe…it’ll all work out.”  
  
Jensen exhales and shakes his head. “No, I’m not dragging you into this. They want me to be a criminal informant and if the wrong people get the  _right_ idea, someone could get hurt. And I can’t have that on my conscience.”  
  
“You can’t decide for me, Jensen, it doesn’t work like this. I’m telling you that I want to be a part of it, no matter what craziness you’re mixed in. I mean, what’s so different between me being your best friend while you were getting into bed with criminals and us being together now?”  
  
“The part where I can’t trust you,” Jensen lies. “You sold me out and to a guy like me? That’s one of the worst things you can do. So that’s what’s different. You can either accept that or walk out of the door right now. It’s your choice.” It’s a miracle that Jensen’s voice doesn’t falter because he feels sick just from saying the words, from pushing Jared away even though it’s the last thing that he wants.  
  
Jared frowns, clearly stunned by what he’s just heard. “I... Fine. I…I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust like that. And I’m even sorrier that we can’t get past it but…we can still be friends, right? After all of this time, it would be weird if we weren’t.” Surprised that Jared’s finally gotten the message, it takes him a moment to think about his response.  
  
Jensen wants to stay strong and stick to his guns, tell Jared that they need a clean break. He wants to make sure that Jared’s nowhere near him when the FBI come sniffing around. However, he’s just not that strong, and like it or not, he’s still in love with Jared. He wants Jared to be a part of his life, wants his kid to know one of the most kindest-hearted guys he knows, and that means not throwing away over ten years of friendship.  
  
“Yeah,” he agrees, voice thick with emotion. “We can still be friends.” The baby monitor crackles to life. It’s just Tyler stirring but Jensen takes the distraction for what it is, a way to get out of this conversation. He stands and gestures towards the upper half of his house. Jared gets all flustered and jumps up quickly, his legs swinging into Jensen’s slightly. Jensen grabs Jared’s arm and tries to steady him. Their eyes catch and Jensen swallows again, unable to tear his gaze away. He’s not sure who moves first but it doesn’t matter. Their lips touch and they pull each other in. It’s a slow kiss, the kind that burns in soft light and each press of lips is punctuated by a different memory; Jared smiling, them laughing together, arguing, the taste and touch of Jared’s skin, how warm he always was. He remembers them loving each other so fiercely even though they had no idea at the time.  
  
Eventually it all gets too much and Jensen has to pull away before he gets too comfortable, too familiar with the way Jared’s lips feel on his, the way Jared’s scent seems to permeate his system. He lingers briefly as their foreheads bump gently and steps back after a minute has passed. His heart beats furiously in his chest and from the way Jared’s breathing hitches, he’s going through the same thing. Hazel-green eyes lock onto his and Jensen stares right back, almost daring Jared to say something – to make him change his mind.  
  
He doesn’t, though. There’s a pained look, an aborted attempt to say something and then, finally, Jared makes his way over to the door. His movements seem slow and laboured up until the instance that he leaves without looking back. The thud of the slammed door seems to make Jensen spring to life and he feels all of the tension slipping away; tears prick at his eyes as pain floods his chest and for a second he stands there, desperately trying to catch his breath.  
  
Even though he’s agreed to be friends, Jensen doesn’t think he can do it. He can’t face Jared and pretend that they’re the same because he’s the one who put forth the notion of them starting a relationship. He’s the one who’s caused all of this unnecessary hurt and he hates it. He hates that he’s ended up hurting Jared even more, when his intention was to do the opposite. The baby monitor crackles to life once again and he straightens up. With a deep breath, he steadies himself, wiping his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his black Henley.  
  
In the midst of all of the regret, heartbreak and pain, a ray of hope shines through as he makes his way upstairs. Tyler’s awake, eyes wide and innocent and he shifts in his crib. Jensen picks him up gently, gibberish words already on the tip of his tongue. He stops himself as he holds onto his son and breathes in.  
  
“It’s just me and you now, kiddo,” he murmurs. “Just me and you.”

 

 

  
Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Notes #2
> 
> First of all...*ducks flying objects* :P
> 
> I've had an interesting time writing this! At times I hated it. At times I thought it was a decent story and in the end, I was happy with it. In total I spent maybe a combined total of three weeks on it due to other stuff, so in some ways I feel like I spent a lot of time thinking about it but not writing it. I probably did, lol! I mention pancakes a lot, because I ate them a lot while writing this. It was kind of funny to see it when I was going through it.
> 
> This story isn't necessarily based on White Collar but parts of it were. I came up with the concept last year and wanted it to be a fun, adventure type story and then I caught up with White Collar and I was intrigued by a certain storyline and I was listening to the song (the title is from) and this story was born. The ending was the first thing I decided on, and even though I considered changing it, I didn't want to have to come up with a contrived ending that I didn't believe in. I also wanted to do something different. Oh and by the way, I know nothing about art so if there are any mistakes there, that's all on me. Why I chose to use this setting is a mystery to me but I kind of enjoyed it in the end.
> 
> There may be a sequel. I do feel like there's maybe more to tell here but whether or not I write one depends on time and I guess, how much people want one.
> 
> So, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> References
> 
> \- Dance at Le moulin de la Galette  
> http://www.artble.com/imgs/7/d/7/67173/dance_at_le_moulin_de_la_galette.jpg
> 
> \- Mona Lisa  
> http://www.britannica.com/topic/Mona-Lisa-painting
> 
> \- The Last Supper  
> http://www.britannica.com/topic/Mona-Lisa-painting
> 
> \- The Creation of Adam  
> http://starrynight.slashthem.es/collections/great-masters/michelangelo_-_creation_of_adam/
> 
> \- The Scream  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scream
> 
> \- Guernica  
> http://www.pablopicasso.org/guernica.jsp
> 
> \- Royal Red and Blue by Mark Rothko  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_1_(Royal_Red_and_Blue)
> 
> \- Warhol’s Turquoise Marilyn  
> https://emdeco.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/turquoise-marilyn-andy-warhol-1964-e1359919577935.jpg
> 
> \- Diamond Trellis Egg  
> http://www.timstanleyphoto.com/HDR/2013/i-GxwH5tT/0/L/130210HMNS-75-L.jpg
> 
> \- Anguish  
> https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:August_Friedrich_Albrecht_Schenck_-_Anguish_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg
> 
> \- À Travers les Styles Italian crystal chandelier  
> http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2010/a-travers-les-styles-a-private-collection-of-silver-paintings-and-furniture-pf1039/lot.49.html


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